“Stop! I hear them moving in the drawing-room, so, my dear boy, fly up to your roost at once. You know how it vexes your mother to see you spending your time with me. Good night, my dear child,” and rising, she laid her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. The very next evening, shortly before dinner, Mrs. Malone sent for her favourite boarder. “I’ve grand news for you!” she announced. “I’ve had the ugly figure valued and a man has offered me a hundred and ten pounds.” “A hundred and ten pounds!” repeated Shafto. “Come, this is one of your good old Irish jokes!” Alas! it must be here recorded that warm-hearted Mrs. Malone was not joking—but lying. She had never been to any expert. The hundred and ten pounds were to come out of her own lean pocket; this had been her “bright idea,” when she contemplated the monster in the cabinet. She was sincerely fond of Shafto; during the time he had been under her roof she had never known him to do a mean or ungentlemanly action; he was considerate, unselfish, and generous—poor as he was; also he opened doors, handed chairs, treated age with deference, and in short conducted himself like the people among whom she had lived most of her life. Richard Hutton was of the same type, so were the two Japanese; but Levison, her most valuable guest, Larcher, and other young boarders had, in her opinion, no manners at all. They smoked where and how they pleased (barring the drawing-room), left cigarette stumps all over the house, kicked off their boots in the hall, were late for meals, loud in talk, arguments and complaints, and supremely indifferent to the comfort of their companions. In some extraordinary and inexplicable manner the story of the monster had leaked out—at any rate, it was in the air. Perhaps the monster himself had blazoned forth the fact of his own value, or Michael, the handy man, had caught a whisper from Maggie (Mrs. Malone’s right hand)? However it was, Mrs. Malone was not a little startled when Mr. Levison, in his loud resonant voice, shouted at her down the dinner table: “So I hear you’ve come in for a wonderful find, ma’am—a Chinese figure valued at a handsome sum! Do you know I’m something of a judge of such stuff—old porcelain is rather in my line—and I’d like to have a look at the prize after dinner, if you don’t object, and if the bargain is not clinched perhaps I might go one better.”