And who would have thought that Mr. Hiram P. Jessop--I beg his pardon! I mean Flight-Lieutenant H. P. Jessop, of the Royal Flying Corps, was responsible for the prompt and uncompromising manner in which that alien couple were "dropped upon" by the authorities. Well! I should like to hope that their imprisonment was at least half as uncomfortable as that night which my mistress and I passed--thanks to them--at Vine Street police-station! But no, I suppose that's too much to expect. Then there's the change that has been brought about by the war in my young mistress herself. At a time when all uniform is glorious, she herself has gone back to uniform, to her old, cast-aside livery of the print frock, the small white cap, the apron of domestic service! I gasped when I first heard what she intended to take up, namely, the position of "ward-maid" in a big London house that has been turned into a hospital for wounded officers. "I must do something for them," she told me. "I feel I must!" "Well, but why this particular thing?" I demurred. "If you wanted to you could take up nursing----" "Nursin', nothing!" she retorted, in an idiom which she had borrowed from the Flight-Lieutenant. "To begin with, I've no gift that way. I know I haven't; a girl can feel that in her bones. Secondly, I ain't no training for it. I'm not one of these that imagine because it goes to their heart to see a pore fellow with a bandage round his head, well, they're a born nurse!" "With your money," I told her, "you could provide that hospital with any number of indoor maids to do the work!" "Yes. And how'd they do it? Not as I should," maintained the Soldier's-Orphanage-trained girl very proudly. "I know the ways o' some o' these townified maids; haven't I watched 'em all down Laburnum Grove? I'm going to make my 'bit' another way!" From morn until dewy eve the girl who was once Miss Million, the heiress, works harder than ever she worked when she was my Aunt Anastasia's maid-of-all-work. Thursday is her afternoon off; Thursday sees her motoring in the Park, exquisitely got up in a frock and furs that were bought during the "shopping orgy" of the first week of her wealth. And---- She has thought it over once again, and she has promised to marry her aviator on his very first leave. "Seemed to make all the difference, him being a soldier; seems to make anybody just twice the man they was before. And him just three times, seeing he'd no real call to go and fight, only he wanted to!" she admitted to me, when we were all packing up to come away from the house in Wales, where we had left the ventriloquist's wife in charge. So that, if all's well, I shall yet have the task of attiring Miss Nellie Million in her shimmering bridal-gown and her filmy veil for that wedding of hers on which I had set my heart from the beginning. Only--her bridesmaids will have to be Marmora, the Breathing Statue Girl, and the lively little Boy-Impersonator.