THE PUMPING OF MRS.

PHILLIMORE Hester sprang to her feet eagerly as she heard the front door close, and standing behind the curtain she watched the man, who was already upon the pavement looking up and down the street for a hansom.

His erect, distinguished figure was perfectly familiar to her.

It was Sir Leslie Borrowdean again.
She resumed her seat in front of the typewriter, and touched the keys idly.

In a few moments what she had been expecting happened.