Uncle Mathew stepped with careful deliberation into the hall, put
his bag on a chair, and began a long, rambling explanation.

"You know, Maggie, that I would have sent you a post card if I had
had an idea, but, upon my soul, there I was suddenly in Drymouth on
important business. I thought to myself on waking this morning--I
took a room at the 'Three Tuns'--'Why, there are Charles and Maggie
whom I haven't seen for an age.' I'd have sent you a telegram but
the truth is, my dear, that I didn't want to spend a penny more than
I must. Things haven't been going so well with me of late. It's a
long story. I want your father's advice. I've had the worst of luck
and I could tell you one or two things that would simply surprise
you--but anyway, there it is. Just for a night I'm sure you won't
mind. To-morrow or the day after I must be back in town or this
thing will slip right through my fingers. These days one must be
awake or one's simply nowhere."

He paused and nodded his head very solemnly at her, looking, as he
did so, serious and important.

It was thus that he always appeared, "for one night only," but
staying for weeks and weeks in spite of the indignant protests of
his brother Charles who had never liked him and grudged the expense
of his visits. Maggie herself took his appearance as she did
everything else in her life with good-tempered philosophy. She had
an affection for her uncle; she wished that he did not drink so
much, but had he made a success of life she would not have cared for
him as she did. After all every one had their weaknesses . . .