"Pa was a stableman, sir, at Buckin'am Palace, and often and often I've
'eard 'im tell mother what'd be the end of 'im. He 'd seen it in a
dream. And mother, _she_ was a stewardess in a Sou'-Western boat that
got cut in two last year. Maybe you read of it in the papers?"

Tears by this time filled the child's eyes. She was casting about to
invent a last dying speech for her mother, when Doctor Glasson
interrupted.

"If your aunt wishes to place you here, it might perhaps be managed, for
a consideration. Just now we have no room for-er--non-paying children.
But you began by asking for Arthur Miles."

"Surname Chandon."

"Yes--quite so--Chandon." He picked up a pencil and a half-sheet of
paper from the desk, and wrote the name. "Born at Kingsand--I think you
said Kingsand? Do you happen to know where Kingsand is? In what
county, for instance?"

But Tilda had begun to scent danger again, she hardly knew why, and
contented herself with shaking her head.

"Someone wants to see him. Who?"

"She's--an invalid," Tilda admitted.

"Not your aunt?"

"She's a--a _friend_ of my aunt's."