"The basement door--is it bolted?" Dempster dived down to the lower hall and up again, panting for breath. "The scuttle," said E. E., pointing upwards. Dempster rushed upstairs, banged away at the roof, and ran down again. E. E. drew down her veil, and tightened her shawl. "Oh, Dempster, have you locked the wine-cellar?" Again Dempster made a rush into the depths of the earth, and came up again dripping with swe--well, perspiration. "There, I think everything is safe now," he said, offering E. E. his arm. She took it a moment, then dropped it suddenly. "Dear me! Dempster, you haven't been near the stable, and I haven't a doubt it is wide open!" Dempster said something between his teeth which I tried my best not to hear; then off he went down the pavement, looking as if he would give the world to knock some one down. By and by he came back, panting like a mad dog. "Anything more!" says he, savage as a jack-knife, wiping his face with a white pocket-handkerchief. "Yes, dear," says E. E.; "I'm afraid I left my parasol--just run up and see." Dempster went, and came down with the parasol in his hand. She took it, and got into the carriage. I followed, and "that child" dived in after me. Dempster had his foot on the step, when E. E. broke out again: "Oh, darling, what shall I do?--Snip has been left behind. I think you will find her in the bath-room." Dempster dashed the handkerchief across his face, ran up the steps in desperate haste, and by and by came out with E. E.'s little black dog in his arms. E. E. reached out her arms, but Cecilia snatched it from her father. That moment a policeman went by, and E. E. leaned through the carriage window. "Why, Dempster, you have forgotten to see the policeman." Dempster followed the man, diving one hand down into his pocket. I saw him draw out some money, which the man took; then poor Dempster came back on a run, and plunged into the carriage. "Drive on--drive on, I say--or we'll be too late for the Long Branch boat!" The man did drive on, but E. E. jerked the check-string. "Oh, husband, do oblige me just this once--I have left my longest back braid on the bureau!" "No," says Dempster, "I'll be--" I put my hand over Dempster's mouth. "Dempster," says I, "if you ever want to be a Christian, this is the place to begin in, for here patience can have its perfect work." My gentle rebuke had its effect. Dempster got out of the carriage, and once more mounted those stone steps. By and by he came back with a long braid of hair trailing from his hand. Then he planted his foot on the carriage step with decision, and says he: "Drive on!" which the man did. LXXVIII. THAT HAIR-TRUNK.