when I 'ears Miss Marryun a-moanin' and a-sobbin' like. Missus was
talkin' to 'er and soothin' 'er. "Don't carry on so," she ses, "for I
tells you, it's no use."

'"No use," ses Miss Marryun in a choked sort o' voice, "why is it no
use? I love 'im, I adore 'im. Oh, Willyum, Willyum, you'll break my
'art if you go on with this yeer cold indifference----"'

'Stop,' I interposed sternly. At any other time I might have smiled at
the girl's quaint phraseology. But I did not smile just then. _Dulce
est desipere in loco_. Wild as the story sounded, it was making me
feel decidedly uncomfortable. A slight perspiration had broken out on
my forehead. But I threw a strong note of assurance into my voice as I
went on: 'Girl, this is a monstrous action on your part to
listen--er--overhear at doors and repeat conversations of a most
delicate nature to a third party.'

'What-ho,' put in Elizabeth.

'Now let me show you the mistake under which you are labouring. It is
true my name is William, but William is a common name. I have
remarked, indeed, that the world is pretty full of Williams. Miss
Warrington was in no way referring to me.'

'I don't think,' commented Elizabeth.

'Evidently you don't,' I said severely, 'or you would not make such
absurd statements.'

'I ain't done yet,' went on this diabolical creature. 'You say it