turned to the valiant Sims and made herself so agreeable to that daring
blade that Mr. Drill, a prey to violent jealousy, bade the company a curt
good-night and withdrew.

He stayed away for nearly a week, and then one evening as he approached
the house, carrying a carpet-bag, he saw the door just opening to admit
the fortunate Herbert. He quickened his pace and arrived just in time to
follow him in. Mr. Sims, who bore under his arm a brown-paper parcel,
seemed somewhat embarrassed at seeing him, and after a brief greeting
walked into the room, and with a triumphant glance at Mr. Gunnill and
Selina placed his burden on the table.

[Illustration: "He saw the door just opening to admit the fortunate
Herbert."]

"You--you ain't got it?" said Mr. Gunnill, leaning forward.

"How foolish of you to run such a risk!" said Selina.

"I brought it for Miss Gunnill," said the young man, simply. He
unfastened the parcel, and to the astonishment of all present revealed a
policeman's helmet and a short boxwood truncheon.

"You--you're a wonder," said the gloating Mr. Gunnill. "Look at it,
Ted!"

Mr. Drill was looking at it; it may be doubted whether the head of Mr.
Cooper itself could have caused him more astonishment. Then his eyes
sought those of Mr. Sims, but that gentleman was gazing tenderly at the
gratified but shocked Selina.