_Wherein Egoism begins to Suspect that there is a Bottom to the Pint Pot_ “Please, mum,” Victoria’s untidy head appeared round the edge of the door, whispering hoarsely: “A gentleman as calls hisself Pangbutt is on the hall mat downstairs.” Caroline raised her head inquiringly: “Mr. Paul Pangbutt?” she asked in frank surprise. Victoria May Alice nodded violently: “That’s the gent, mum--he said as you’d know his name.” “Say I am not at home to visitors.” “I did, mum--but he says as I was to say as he is partic’lar anxious to see you. He called before--but he was that blimey gloomy I sent him off for a walk--said as you wouldn’t be in for an hour--Lord ’elp me.” Caroline hesitated. “Wait,” she said. “Show Mr. Pangbutt upstairs, Victoria.” Victoria May Alice dropped her dust-pan and brush with a rattle of surprise: “Oh!--you _will_ see him.... Bless yer, _I_ thought he’d be a gloomy nuisance--he’s that solemn. I told him he hadn’t a charnce. He rather calls for a sunshiny day to show him off, does Pangbutt.” She came in and leaned forward toward Caroline: “Don’t yer hesitate to say a hint, mum--I’d lie like Sapphira, if yer tips the wink. I was a-putting of him off anyway--I’ve been a-hinting as you was in your bath, mum, but, of course, if yer _want_ to see him, I’ll tell him it was all shine and on second thoughts you ain’t a-goin’ to have one to-day.” The girl went to the head of the stairs, rattled the tin dust-pan against the brush handle to call the visitor’s attention down below, and cried shrilly over the balustrade: “Hi! mister--you can come up all right--it’s all off about the bath.” She put her untidy head in at the door: “He’s a-comin’ up, lidy,” she said; and, shutting the door, departed. Caroline sighed wearily: “I wish we could suppress that child,” she said.... The door opened and Victoria May Alice, in the gloom beyond the lamp, cried, as a dark figure entered the room: “The gentleman as says he’s Mr. Pangbutt, marm!” A burst of laughter came from the group about the bed at some passing sally from Noll. Paul Pangbutt, blinking at the lamp-light, looked dazedly round the room. Caroline rose from her seat: “Ah, Mr. Pangbutt!” She bowed to him formally, and added airily: “So the river of life brings us together again in strange places!” He came to meet her haltingly: “I particularly wished to see you--alone,” he said in a low tone and with some embarrassment. She bowed: “We have drifted along such different ways,” she said coldly, “that I could scarcely believe the little servant when she told me so.” “I came to see if I could be of any help,” he said, almost in a whisper. She laughed lightly: “Help?” Her voice rose in gay surprise. “I heard you needed help,” he said, “nearly a month ago.” “Thank you--no. But won’t you be seated?” He went to the stove and gazed at it--rebuffed--perplexed. Caroline resumed her seat: