"_Half a crown!_" said Doris Meadows, in consternation. "The fare was
one and twopence. Of course he thought you mad. But I'll get it back!"

And she ran to the open window, crying "Hi!" to the driver of a
taxi-cab, who, having put down his fares, was just on the point of
starting from the door of the small semi-detached house in a South
Kensington street, which owned Arthur and Doris Meadows for its master
and mistress.

The driver turned at her call.

"Hi!--Stop! You've been over-paid!"

The man grinned all over, made her a low bow, and made off as fast as he
could.

Arthur Meadows, behind her, went into a fit of laughter, and as his
wife, discomfited, turned back into the room he threw a triumphant arm
around her.

"I had to give him half a crown, dear, or burst. Just look at these
letters--and you know what a post we had this morning! Now don't bother
about the taxi! What does it matter? Come and open the post."

Whereupon Doris Meadows felt herself forcibly drawn down to a seat on
the sofa beside her husband, who threw a bundle of letters upon his
wife's lap, and then turned eagerly to open others with which his own
hands were full.

"H'm!--Two more publishers' letters, asking for the book--don't they