"We’re paupers!" she cried. "We’re in debt! We’re broke! There’s a distraint on the furniture; and that creature"--Mr. Stillbottle, hazily conscious that a cue was coming, furtively thrust his manuscript into his waistcoat pocket--"that creature is a broker’s man! Oh, Mother, Mother, Mother!"
In an instant Martha Welwyn’s arms closed round her daughter.
"There, there!" she crooned. "My lamb, my pretty, my precious, my dearie--don’t you cry!"
There was a deathlike stillness, broken only by Tilly’s sobs. The Mainwarings stood like statues. Mr. Welwyn sat on the sofa, his head bowed between his hands. Grandma Banks slumbered peacefully. The bewildered but conscientious Stillbottle seized his opportunity, and cleared his throat.
"The shover, sir," he announced huskily, "is below, a-waitin’ for--"
Next moment a hand like a vice closed upon the herald’s collar, and Dicky Mainwaring’s voice remarked concisely into his ear:--
Mr. Stillbottle, utterly dazed, raised his head and surveyed the company. Then he smiled apologetically.
"Wrong entrance," he observed. "My error! _Exit hastily!_"
quavered Mr. Stillbottle blithely, with his feet upon the kitchen hob,--
--"_which is published in the mornin’!_ _Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, little Star!_"
He unfolded the early edition of the organ in question and devoted himself to a laboured perusal of the list of probable starters for the Lincolnshire Handicap, now looming in the immediate future; for he was anxious to ascertain whether his premonitions as to the identity of the winner coincided with those of the prophet retained by the management. Apparently they did; for presently the paper was laid aside with a contented sigh, and the student of form resumed the hoary lay which anxiety connected with the investment of his newly acquired capital had caused him momentarily to abandon.
"_Twinkle, Star!_ _Tiddley Wink!_ _Twinkle on till you dunno where you are!_ _Oh, we ’ll make things warm for ’Arcourt,_ If ’e ever comes down our court!* _Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, little St--_"
Conscious of a draught upon the back of his neck, the vocalist turned uneasily in the direction of the door. It had opened some six inches, revealing to view a pair of cherubic heads, set one above the other. Each head was furnished with a pair of quite circular blue eyes, which surveyed Mr. Stillbottle, with unwinking and unnerving ecstasy.