her treasure. Penelope waited to take off his hat and pelisse, and was
told to come for him in five minutes.

"It's not my tea-time yet," cried he defiantly.

"Indeed, then, Master Walter, it is long past it," said the nurse. "I
couldn't get him in before, ma'am," she added to her mistress. "Every
minute I kept expecting you'd be sending one of the servants after us."

"In five minutes," repeated Mrs. Hamlyn. "And what's _this_ picture
about, Walter? Is it a little girl with a doll?"

"Oh, dat bootiful," said the eager little lad, who was not yet as quick
in speech as he was in ideas. "It says she--dere's papa!"

In came Philip Hamlyn, tall, handsome, genial. Walter ran to him and was
caught in his arms. He and his wife were just a pair for adoring the
child.

But nurse, inexorable, appeared again at the five minutes' end, and
Master Walter was carried off.

"You came home in a cab, Philip, did you not? I thought I heard one
stop."

"Yes; it is a miserable evening. Raining fast now."

"Raining!" she repeated, rather wondering to hear it was not snowing.
She went to the window to look out, and the first object her eyes caught
sight of was the woman; leaning in the old place against the railings,