Hilliard spoke a hurried word or two about Eve and went his way.
Something less than a week after this he chanced to be away from home throughout the whole day, and on returning he was surprised to see a telegram upon his table.

It came from Patty Ringrose, and asked him to call at the shop without fail between one and two that day.

The hour was now nearly ten; the despatch had arrived at eleven in the morning.
Without a minute's delay he ran out in search of a cab, and was driven to High Street.

Here, of course, he found the shop closed, but it was much too early for the household to have retired to rest; risking an indiscretion, he was about to ring the house bell when the door opened, and Patty showed herself.
"Oh, is it _you_, Mr.Hilliard!" she exclaimed, in a flurried voice.

"I heard the cab stop, and I thought it might be----You'd better come in--quick!" He followed her along the passage and into the shop, where one gas-jet was burning low.
"Listen!" she resumed, whispering hurriedly.