"You folk don't seem to know that we keep a respectable house," she cried. "We are not going to have females here who don't know how to behave themselves, and who are thieves into the bargain. If you get over ma, who's a fool, and come stealing my piano--my piano, what I paid for myself--well, if ma lets herself be sucked in by a lot of sneaking scoundrels like you are, all of you, I tell you straight out we're not going to have women here who brawl in the streets in the middle of the night, as well as steal pianos; so you can take yourselves off, and if either of you two, who call yourselves ladies I dare say, show your noses here again, I'll have you clapped into prison for stealing a respectable woman's piano. You needn't think you're going to sleep beneath this roof to-night, so be off with you, piano thieves." Here she banged down the window with such violence that the glass rattled in the casement. Dead silence prevailed in the street. "I'm so sorry," faltered Douglas, quite subdued. "It's all my fault from beginning to end." "Well, it's no use standing here, I suppose," declared Evarne in rather a shaking voice. "Come along, Jess; we'll go back to Mrs. Shiells and see what she can do for us. I'm sure she will let us sit in her kitchen till morning, anyway." "Archie and I will give up our bed," cried remorseful Douglas, as the glum little procession, under the gauntlet of many eyes, turned to retrace its steps. "What a bad, wicked creature to shut us out in the streets at this time of night," declared Jess with emphasis, then sniffed, suspiciously close to tears. "Don't cry till you see the end of it," advised Evarne, stoical from very misery. "How can we know whether it be good or bad angels that have planned all these unforeseen events? Anything that appears to be entirely hateful--like this whole evening has been--may be but a preliminary to happiness!" But her heart was as heavy as lead as she spoke. "Goodness gracious me! What a queer girl you are to talk like a minister in his pulpit while we are sloshing through the mud and the rain with nowhere to sleep!" laughed Jess, highly amused; whereupon Evarne smilingly inquired what more appropriate moment could be chosen. Mrs. Shiells was kindness itself. Surely, she would find a haven for the puir lassies, she declared. Let them wait a moment. After a brief absence she returned, accompanied by another brawny Scotch dame. She had believed Miss Brodie here had a vacant room, she said, but she was mistaken. However, it was nigh two o'clock. There wasn't much more of the night before them. She'd be pleased if one of the lassies would share her bed, and would the other sleep with Miss Brodie? Gratefully the girls accepted this offer. It was arranged that Jess should stay with Mrs. Shiells, and in less than a quarter of an hour Evarne found herself lying in the darkness by the side of this new good Samaritan who had so recently appeared upon the scene.