And just at first, after being settled at Lennard's, Tom Heriot seemed to be taking a turn for the better. The warmth of the comfortable rooms, the care given to him, the strengthening diet, and perhaps a feeling that he was in a safer asylum than he had yet found, all had their effect upon him for good. * * * * * "Hatch!" called out Mrs. Brightman. Hatch ran in from the next room. "Yes, ma'am." "Let Perry go and tell the gardener to cut some of his best grapes, white and purple, and do you arrange them in a basket. I shall go up to Essex Street and see my daughter this afternoon, and will take them to her. Order the carriage for half-past two o'clock." "Miss Annabel will be finely pleased to see you, ma'am!" remarked Hatch. "Possibly so. But she is no longer Miss Annabel. Go and see about the grapes." When Mrs. Brightman's tones were cold and haughty, and they sounded especially so just now, she brooked no dilatoriness in those who had to obey her behests. Hatch turned away immediately, and went along talking to herself. "She's getting cross and restless again. I'm certain of it. In a week's time from this we shall have her as bad as before. And for ever so many weeks now she has been as cautious and sober as a judge! Hang the drink, then! Doctors may well call it a disease when it comes to this stage with people. Here--I say, Perry!" The butler, passing along the hall, heard Hatch's call, and stopped. She gave her cap-strings a fling backwards as she advanced to him. "You are to go and tell Church to cut a basket of grapes, and to mix 'em, white and black. The very best and ripest that is in the greenhouse; they be for Miss Annabel." "All right, I'll go at once," answered Perry. "But you need not snap a man's nose off, Hatch, or look as if you were going to eat him. What has put you out?" "Enough has put me out; and you might know that, old Perry, if you had any sense," retorted Hatch. "When do I snap people's noses off--which it's my tone, I take it, that you mean--except I'm that bothered and worried I can't speak sweet?" "Well, what's amiss?" asked Perry. They were standing close together, and Hatch lowered her voice to a whisper. "The missis is going off again; I be certain sure on't." "_No!_" cried Perry, full of dismay. "But, look here, Hatch"--suddenly diving into one of his jackets--"she can't have done it; here's the cellar-key. I can be upon my word that there's not a drain of anything out." "You always did have the brains of a turkey, you know, Perry," was Hatch's gracious rejoinder; "and I'm tired of reminding you of it. Who said missis had took anything? Not me. She haven't--yet. As you observe, there's nothing up for her to take. But she'll be ordering you to bring something up before to-morrow's over; perhaps before to-day is." "Dear, dear!" lamented the faithful servant. "Don't you think you may be mistaken, Hatch? What do you judge by?"