"I forgot the bolt was fastened, Mrs Brade," he said, as he drew back to admit a plump looking, neatly dressed woman in cap and apron, one corner of which she took up to begin rolling between her fingers as she stood smiling at the edge of the carpet. "Yes, sir," she said, "if I might make so bold, and I don't wonder at it. Oh, my dear--I mean Mr Stratton, sir--how handsome you do look this morning!" "Why, you silly old woman!" he cried, half laughing, half annoyed. "Oh, no, excuse me, sir, not a bit. Handsome is as handsome does, they say, and you is and does too, sir, and happiness and joy go with you, sir, and your dear, sweet lady too, sir." "Oh, thank you, thank you, Mrs Brade, but--" "I always thought as you would marry some day, sir, as was only natural, but I never thought as a widow would be your lot." "Mrs Brade!" cried Stratton impatiently, and with his brows contracting a little. "I am very busy--not a moment to spare." "Of course, sir, and no wonder; but I do wish it hadn't been such a dull morning." "Dull?" cried Stratton, rushing to the window; "I thought it was all sunshine." "Of course you did, sir; so did I; and well I remember it, though it's forty years ago." "Mrs Brade, I told you I was busy. I thank you for your congratulations, and I gave you all your instructions yesterday, so pray what do you want?" Mrs Brade, wife of the inn porter, lifted the corner of her apron to her mouth, and made a sound like the stifling of a laugh. "I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure, and of course it's natural at such a time. I came because you sent word by the waiter that I was to--" "Of course, yes: about ten. I'm so busy, I forgot," cried Stratton hastily. "Look here, Mrs Brade, I want you to go over to the bank; it will be open by the time you get across. Cash this cheque for me; bring all notes--tens and fives." "A hundred and fifty pounds, sir?" "Yes; take a hand bag with you. Don't get robbed." "Oh, no, sir. I know too much of the ways of London town." "That's right. Excuse my being hurried with you." "Of course, sir; I know well what your feelings must be. (Sniff, sniff.) Why, you can smell Mr Brettison a-smoking his ubble-bubble with that strange tobacco right in here." As the woman spoke she went straight across to the door on the left of the fireplace. "Here! where are you going?" cried Stratton. "Back directly, sir," came in smothered tones, accompanied by the pulling of a bath chain, the gurgling of water, and the sound of shutting down a heavy lid. "Lor', how strong Mr Brettison do smell, sir. It's my memory's got that bad, sir," said the woman, reappearing and carefully shutting the door, "that I'm obliged to do things when I see them want doing, else I forgets. It was only yesterday that Mr Brettison--" "Mrs Brade, the cheque, please." "Of course, sir," said the woman hastily just as there was a little rat-tat at the brass knocker of the outer door, which she opened.