It was close upon evening before the trouble Thisbe expected came. Tom Porter had been again, tapped at the door, and when Thisbe went to the window he had contorted his face in the most horrible manner, closing his left eye, and then walked off without a word. Thisbe watched till he was out of sight, and then returned to her chair. "He's to be trusted," she said to herself. "It's a pity he wants to marry me. We're much better as we are; and who knows but what he might turn wild? There's only one thing in his favour, he ain't a handsome man." Now Tom Porter at fifty looked to be about the last person in the world to turn wild, but Thisbe's experiences had done much to harden her virgin heart. At least a dozen times over she had slipped off her shoes and ascended the stairs to find that, utterly exhausted, Mrs Hallam and Julia were sleeping heavily, the latter on a chair, with her arms clasped about her mother's neck. "Poor dears!" said Thisbe, as she descended; "I daren't wake them, but they ought to have a cup of tea." "Ah," she exclaimed softly, "what would she say? I shall never dare to look her in the face again." At last the trouble came. "I knew it," said Thisbe, as she heard the steps at the door. "He was bound to find us. Yes, they're both there. Well, it's his own work and not mine. What shall I do?" She rose from her chair, looking very resolute. "I'll face them bold. It's the only way." She heard the murmur of men's voices, and then there was a rap at the door given with the handle of a whip. She went to the door, unfastened and threw it open. "What is it?" she said. Hallam and Crellock were on the threshold, and the latter exclaimed, as soon as he saw her: "I thought so." They stepped in quickly, and Thisbe's lips tightened as she was forced to back before them, and the door swung to. "Where is your mistress?" said Hallam sharply. "Asleep. Worn out and ill." "Where's my daughter?" "With her mother: upstairs." "I'll soon have an end of this fooling," he exclaimed; and as Thisbe stood with her arms folded, she seemed to see a flash of the old look she remembered--the look she hated--when they were at Castor years before. Hallam threw open the door at the foot of the narrow staircase, while Crellock seated himself astride a chair with his hat on and beat his boot with his whip. "Millicent! Julie!" cried Hallam fiercely, and there were footsteps heard above, for the arrival had awakened those who slept. "Come down at once." He let the door swing to and began to pace the little room, muttering to himself, and evidently furious with rage at his wife's desertion. Crellock watched him from the corner of his eyes, and from time to time unconsciously applied his hand to a great discolouration on the cheek. He was evidently quite satisfied, for Hallam needed no egging on to the task, and he felt that this episode would hasten his marriage.