"Thank goodness you come 'ome!" she burst out. She was unfortunate in the place of her birth and up-bringing, was Amelia. To judge from her accent she must have been born right up in the steeple of Bow Church. Otherwise she was a sterling girl. I will tone down her vernacular: it does not spell easily. "Sich a dye I never had. Seems to me we'd better git away 'ome's quick's we can," she began. "Why, Amelia, what's the matter?" asked her mistress. "Matter?" said Amelia, with rising inflection. "Well, there's been a party of three old maiden ladies, with three dawgs, and two kinaries, and a parrick in a cage, all a-settin' cryin' on their boxes outside here all day long since half an hour after you left, a-waitin' for you to come back and go out of this 'ouse and let 'em come in. They say they took it from August 14 for a month, and paid a dee-posit, and they was to come in to-day. And the kitching fire was to be ready lighted, an'--" "And there was to be coal, and bread, and milk in the house, and oil for the lamps, and they'd paid for them," said I. "My! Did you hear 'em?" "No," I said, "I didn't." "And what did you do, Amelia?" asked my wife, anxiously. "I just told 'em straight that we was 'ere for a month, and there must be some mistake, seein' as we wasn't a-goin' out till our time was up, and then they just set down and cried, and the parrick swore awful till they covered him up. He belonged to a nevew what was a sailor man, they said, when he begun to swear, and I told the children to run inside lest they'd catch it. Then they was so misrable settin' there, dabbin' of their poor little red noses, that I made 'em some tea, and they could 'ave kissed me, and they wanted me to take pay for it, but I wouldn't." "You're a good girl, Amelia, and you did quite right," said her mistress, and turning to me-- "This is really very trying and very uncomfortable. What do you suppose is the meaning of it?" She looked a little bit as though she thought it was my fault. "I don't know what's the meaning of it," I said, feeling angry. "I'm afraid Mr. Joseph Scorer has a very short memory. If I had him here I'd try if screwing his neck round would lengthen it." Next day being Sunday we had a genuine day of rest, and enjoyed it with quite a novel sense of freedom from the cares and worries of life. On Monday, by the morning train and the station omnibus, arrived a family much like our own--father, mother, four children, servant, and innumerable boxes. I had had my bathe, and was sitting in the porch armed with a pipe and my stamped agreement with Mr. Scorer, prepared to repel all intruders. So, before the grinning omnibus-man had time to dump down the baggage, I took the father on one side, showed him my agreement, and explained the situation, telling him his was the third party I had had to turn empty away. [Illustration: "I TOOK THE FATHER ASIDE AND SHOWED HIM MY AGREEMENT."]