everybody concerned, but not least with the evidently camouflaging Tonk.

"She has a soldier at the Front," said the Happy Heart. "I am sorry to
say that she will not promise to marry him, even if he does come home.
But even so--"

Sarah Brown wrote down on Miss Tonk's card the small purple cipher that
stood for hm--hm. "I will make enquiries about her address," she said.

But that was not the last of Tonk. Presently the red face of the
Relieving Officer loomed over the index.

"In the case of Plummett--" he began loudly.

"In the case of Tonk--" interrupted Sarah Brown, to whom, in her present
mood, Plummett could only have been a last straw. She hated the
Relieving Officer unjustly, because he knew she was deaf and raised his
voice, with the best intentions, to such a degree that the case papers
on the index were occasionally blown away. "We have already notified you
three times that Tonk is having a half-pint of milk daily from the
Happy Hearts, as well as an allotment from a soldier."

"We stopped the groceries," roared the Relieving Officer. "But in the
case of Plummett--"

"In the case of Tonk--" persisted Sarah Brown. "She has moved from Mud
Street, can you tell me her last address?"

"She is living in a sort of private charitable institution, somewhere on
the outskirts of the district--Mitten Island, I fancy. I don't know the