Mr. Mott, afraid to trust himself with speech, dashed upstairs, and after
a search for the matches found the letter, and, returning to the front
door, shut it on the visitor's thanks. His niece's door opened as he
passed it, and a gentle voice asked for enlightenment.

"How silly of him!" she said, softly. "I hope he won't catch cold.
What did you say?"

"I was coughing," said Mr. Mott, hastily.

"You'll get cold if you're not careful," said his thoughtful niece.
"That's the worst of men, they never seem to have any thought. Did he
seem angry, or mournful, or what? I suppose you couldn't see his face?"

"I didn't try," said Mr. Mott, crisply. "Good night."

By the morning his ill-humour had vanished, and he even became slightly
facetious over the events of the night. The mood passed at the same
moment that Mr. Hurst passed the window.

"Better have him in and get it over," he said, irritably.

Miss Garland shuddered.

"Never!" she said, firmly. "He'd be down on his knees. It would be too
painful. You don't know him."

"Don't want to," said Mr. Mott.

He finished his breakfast in silence, and, after a digestive pipe,