Susy Lizzie fumbled among a pile of papers and finally handed one over to Jimmy. “To Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Impossible to report recovery of Members of Parliament with any truth because still at large. Goddard, District Inspector.” “Be damn,” said Jimmy, “but you had him there, as neat as ever I seen.” “He’s not satisfied, though. Look at this.” He handed another form to Jimmy. “From Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Lord Lieutenant requests explanation of disappearance of Members of Parliament.” “Here’s the answer to that,” said Mr. Goddard. “Read it out to your uncle, Susy Lizzie, before you send it off.” Susy Lizzie grinned broadly. “Go on,” said Jimmy, “and do what the gentleman bids you. You’ve no right to be laughing at the business of the Government.” “Theory current locally,” read Susy Lizzie, “that Members of Parliament have deserted their wives and aunt.” “That’ll give him his ’nough of telegraphing for this day anyhow,” said Jimmy. “I’d like to see the way he’ll be rampaging up and down the stairs of the Castle when he gets that. It’ll show them fellows that you think mighty little of them anyway, Mr. Goddard.” “How are the ladies getting on?” “I’ve quietened them for a bit. They were annoyed on account of Sergeant Farrelly not coming back; but I told them it would take him a long time to be dragging Mr. Red along the road by the hair of his head, and I didn’t think he’d come without. They’ll be all right for another hour, anyway. Will I be going into the hotel and telling Bridgy to fetch you over a cup of tea? It’s after five o’clock.” It was nearly six o’clock before Bridgy came to the shop with a tray in her hands. She was followed by Affy, the young gentleman from the grocery department, who carried a loaf of bread and a pot of jam. Mr. Goddard and Susy Lizzie began a comfortable meal together. They were interrupted twice by telegrams from Dublin, but they did not allow these to trouble them much. A very much more serious interruption was caused by a breathless whisper from Affy to the effect that four ladies were entering the shop. Mr. Goddard, carrying his teacup with him, concealed himself behind a screen of muffed glass, originally erected by the post-office authorities in order that letters might be sorted out of sight of the public. “Susy Lizzie,” he whispered, “run like a good girl and get your uncle. Tell him that the ladies are here, and that he’ll have to come at once and pacify them.” Susy Lizzie ran. She was enjoying her afternoon immensely. The monotony of her life was seldom broken in any way half so agreeable. “If the thing is to be done, I’ll do it,” said Jimmy, when he received the message. He left his bar and went into the shop. He faced Miss Farquharson, who was asking Affy where Mr. Goddard was likely to be found.