'I thought I should never get round with the plate,' said George. Mr Griffith, being a carpenter, which is respectable and well-to-do, which is honourable, had been made churchwarden, and part of his duty was to take round the offertory plate. This duty George performed in his father's occasional absences, as when a coffin was very urgently required. 'I wasn't going to let them get anything out of me,' said Mrs Griffith, defiantly. All through the service a number of eyes had been fixed on them, eager to catch some sign of emotion, full of horrible curiosity to know what the Griffiths felt and thought; but Mrs Griffith had been inscrutable. III Next day the Griffiths lay in wait for the postman; George sat by the parlour window, peeping through the muslin curtains. 'Fanning's just coming up the street,' he said at last. Until the post had come old Griffith could not work; in the courtyard at the back was heard the sound of hammering. There was a rat-tat at the door, the sound of a letter falling on the mat, and Fanning the postman passed on. George leaned back quickly so that he might not see him. Mr Griffith fetched the letter, opened it with trembling hands.... He gave a little gasp of relief. 'She's got a situation in London.' 'Is that all she says?' asked Mrs Griffith. 'Give me the letter,' and she almost tore it from her husband's hand. She read it through and uttered a little ejaculation of contempt--almost of triumph. 'You don't mean to say you believe that?' she cried. 'Let's look, mother,' said George. He read the letter and he too gave a snort of contempt. 'She says she's got a situation,' repeated Mrs Griffith, with a sneer at her husband, 'and we're not to be angry or anxious, and she's quite happy--and we can write to Charing Cross Post Office. I know what sort of a situation she's got.' Mr Griffith looked from his wife to his son. 'Don't you think it's true?' he asked helplessly. At the first moment he had put the fullest faith in Daisy's letter, he had been so anxious to believe it; but the scorn of the others.... 'There's Miss Reed coming down the street,' said George. 'She's looking this way, and she's crossing over. I believe she's coming in.' 'What does she want?' asked Mrs Griffith, angrily. There was another knock at the door, and through the curtains they saw Miss Reed's eyes looking towards them, trying to pierce the muslin. Mrs Griffith motioned the two men out of the room, and hurriedly put antimacassars on the chairs. The knock was repeated, and Mrs Griffith, catching hold of a duster, went to the door. 'Oh, Miss Reed! Who'd have thought of seeing you?' she cried with surprise. 'I hope I'm not disturbing,' answered Miss Reed, with an acid smile. 'Oh, dear no!' said Mrs Griffith. 'I was just doing the dusting in the parlour. Come in, won't you? The place is all upside down, but you won't mind that, will you?' Miss Reed sat on the edge of a chair.