to me until a neighbor came to the house with both the message and
messenger in charge. Joseph had drunk all the whisky in Fossingford.

"Then there's no chance for me to get a drink, I suppose," said Rossiter
with a wry smile.

"Do you need one?" asked Miss Dering saucily.

"I have a headache."

"A pick-me-up is what you want," said Dudley coldly.

"My dear sir, I haven't been drunk," remonstrated Rossiter sharply. His
hearers laughed and he turned red but cold with resentment.

"See, Mr. Rollins, I have smoothed out your clothes and folded them," she
said, pointing to her one-time couch. "I couldn't pack them in your trunk
because you were sitting on it. Shall I help you now?"

"No, I thank you," he said ungraciously. "I can toss 'em in any old way."

He set about doing it without another word. His companions stood over
near the window and conversed earnestly in words too low for him to
distinguish. From the corner of his eye he could see that Dudley's face
was hard and uncompromising, while hers was eager and imploring. The man
was stubbornly objecting to something, and she was just as decided in an
opposite direction.

"He's finding fault and she's trying to square it with him. Oh, my
beauties, you'll have a hard time to shake off one Samuel Rossiter.