"_And_ the saucepan! Don't forget the saucepan!" Mrs. Mortimer called
after them in a sprightly voice as they crossed the yard together.

"Ha, the saucepan!" Within the stable doorway Mr. Mortimer stood still
and pressed a hand to his brow. "You cannot think, my dear Smiles, how
that obligation weighs on me. The expense of a saucepan--what is it?
And yet--" He seemed to ponder. Of a sudden his brow cleared.
"--Unless, to be sure--that is to say, if you should happen to have a
shilling about you?"

"I got no change but 'arf-a-crown, if that's any use," answered the
charmed Sam.

"Nothing smaller? Still," suggested Mr. Mortimer quickly, "I could
bring back the change."

"Yes, do."

"It will please Arabella, too. In point of fact, during the whole of
our married life I have made it a rule never to absent myself from her
side without bringing back some trifling gift. Women--as you will
understand one of these days--set a value on these _petits soins_; and
somewhere in the neighbourhood of the iron bridge a tinsmith's should
not be hard to find . . . Ah, thanks, my dear fellow--thanks
inexpressibly! Absurd of me, of course; but you cannot think what a
load you have taken off my mind."

Sam unhitched one of a number of hauling tackles hanging against the
wall, and led forth his horse--a sturdy old grey, by name Jubilee.