She raced upstairs and I could hear the sound of hurried movements overhead. "You'd better keep dinner back for half-an-hour or so, Nanny. I wish you'd 'phoned me." "I expected him back every minute. It was such a nice day that I thought he might have gone up to your office." "But he's never done such a thing before. What on earth made you think that, Nanny?" "He was saying this morning that he'd like to go over there one of the first fine days." More mysterious than ever! At that moment Molly re-entered the room and--the bell rang! Everyone knows that queer thrill which follows the sudden tinkle of a bell in the midst of a serious conversation about some friend or relative in trouble. The sound seemed to run through every vein in my body. I hurried to the door and flung it open, expecting Heaven knows what after an old man of ninety-five had been away in the streets for over five hours. "Yes?" I said, peering into the dark. "I hope I haven't kept dinner waiting, George," came the answer. It was Gran'pa! "Where on earth have you been?" I yelled. He came into the hall and I switched on the light. "I went out for some tobacco and a little stroll. But it was such a lovely day that I thought I'd take a 'bus ride up to town." He fumbled in his overcoat pocket and beckoned to Molly, who was standing staring at him from the dining-room doorway. "Here's a present for you, Mollikins!" She didn't need a second invitation to bestir herself. "Oh! You darling old Gran'pa!" she cried, running up to him. "Whatever is it?" She felt the paper wrapping with childish curiosity and interest, tore off the string and rapidly exposed the contents. It was a little Chinese god in white ivory--as delicate a bit of work as any I had seen. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Isn't it--_scrumptious_!" "That's very nice of you, Gran'pa!" I bellowed. "Where did you find it?" He hesitated. "In a Regent Street shop," he said, at last, beginning to remove his hat and coat. I regret to say that I did not believe him. That ugly little brute of an idol had either been discovered in a Chinese curio shop in the East End, or purchased from some sailor in the neighborhood of the Docks. It was so thoroughly typical of that quarter and so unusual a present to bring home from Regent Street, that I was convinced Gran'pa had lied in his beard. More than that, his whole manner was mysterious and secretive. He had an air of wanting to get away from us--or get us away from him--or, failing that, to get our thoughts away from his five-hour absence from home. "I'll just pop upstairs and have a wash," he mumbled. Washing for dinner--at ninety-five! Of course, he _had_ done such things before. . . . I looked at Nanny; and she looked at me. "He's been up to something," I said. "I don't like it a bit." "Oh, well," she remarked, in her practical way. "He's home safe and sound again. We must be grateful for that!"