It was just as well she refused the tea, for there was no one to make it. She had hypnotised Belinda, and Belinda coming out of the hypnotic state was having hysterical convulsions in the kitchen, assisted by the charwoman.

"Belinda," cried Leavesley down the kitchen stairs, he had rung his bell vainly, "are you there?"

"She's hill, sir," replied a hoarse voice, "I'm a-lookin' arter her."

"Oh, well, if a Mr Verneede calls, will you ask him to wait for me? I'll be back soon."

"Yessir."

He left the house and proceeded as fast[Pg 264] as omnibuses could take him to Southampton Row.

Bridgewater was out, but Mr Wolf, the second in command, ushered him into Hancock's room.

"Well," said Hancock, who was writing a letter—"Oh, it's you. Sit down, sit down for a minute."

He went on with his letter, and Leavesley took his seat and sat in a simmering state listening to the squeaking of the quill pen, and framing in his mind indictments against Bridgewater.

If he had been in a state of mind to absorb details he might have noticed that his uncle was looking younger and brighter. But the youthfulness or brightness of Mr Hancock were indifferent to him absorbed as he was with his own thoughts.

"Well," said Hancock, finishing his letter with a flourish and leaning back in his chair.

"Aunt came to see me to-day," said Leavesley, "and I came on here at once. It's most disgraceful."

"What?"

"Bridgewater. You've got a man in your[Pg 265] office who is not to be trusted, a mischief-making old——"

"Dear me, what's all this? A man in the office not to be trusted? To whom do you refer?"

"Bridgewater."

"Bridgewater?"

"Yes."

"What has he been doing?"

"Doing! He has been sneaking round to my aunt telling tales about a lady; that's what he has been doing."

"What lady?"

"A Miss Lambert. He told her she had been to the Zoological Gardens with——"

Hancock raised his hand. "Don't go on," he said, "I know it all."

"You know it all?"

"Yes, and I have given Bridgewater a right good dressing down—meddling old stupid!"

Leavesley was greatly taken back at this.

"It's not his fault," continued Hancock. "It's your aunt's fault; she put him on to spy. However, it's rather a delicate subject, and we won't pursue it, but"—suddenly and in a friendly tone—"I take it very kindly of you to come round and tell me this."

[Pg 266]

"I thought I'd better come," said the young man; "besides, the thing put me in such a wax. Of course, if he was egged on by aunt, it's not so much his fault."

"I take it very kindly of you, and we'll say no more about it." He lapsed into meditation, and Leavesley sat filled with a vague feeling of surprise.

Every one seemed a little out of the ordi............