After that evening Monkley and Scarlett went often to see Maudie, but, much to Sylvia's resentment, they never took her with them. When she grumbled about this to Clara, Clara told her that she was well out of it.
"Too many cooks drink up the soup, which means you're one too many, my lad, and a rolling stone doesn't let the grass grow under its feet, which means as that Monkley's got some game on."
Sylvia did not agree with Clara's point of view; she still felt aggrieved by being left out of everything. Luckily, when life in Lillie Road was becoming utterly dull again, a baboon escaped from Earl's Court Exhibition, climbed up the drain-pipe outside the house, and walked into Mrs. Meares's bedroom; so that for some time after this she had palpitations whenever a bell rang. Mr. Morgan was very unkind about her adventure, for he declared that the baboon looked so much like an Irishman that she must have thought it was her husband come back; Mr. Morgan had been practising the Waldstein Sonata at the time, and had been irritated by the interruption of a wandering ape.
A fortnight after this there was a scene in the house that touched Sylvia more sharply, for Maudie Tilt arrived one morning and begged to speak with Mr. Monkley, who, being in the Scarletts' room at the moment, looked suddenly at Sylvia's father with a question in his eyes.
"I told you not to take them all," Henry said.
"I'll soon calm her down," Monkley promised. "If you hadn't insisted on taking those bottles of hair-wash she'd never have thought of looking to see if the other things were still there."
Henry indicated his daughter with a gesture.
"Rot! The kid's got to stand in on this," Monkley said, with a laugh. "After all, it was he who introduced us. I'll bring her up here to talk it out," he added.
Presently he returned with Maudie, who had very red eyes and a frightened expression.
"Oh, Jimmy!" she burst out. "Whatever did you want to take that jewelry for? I only found out last night, and they'll be home to-morrow. Whatever am I going to say?"
"Jewelry?" repeated Monkley, in a puzzled voice. "Harry took some hair-wash, if that's what you mean."
"Jewelry?" Henry murmured, taking the cue from his friend. "Was there any jewelry?"