A CONVERT TO SOCIALISM 301 



one of the whey-faced type, and he's not got the 

 heart in him to help us." 



" Whsit is his name? " asked the girl. 



" Piper," rephed French, pouring himself out 

 some whisky. 



" Well," she said, " wait here, both of you; one 

 never knows what one can do till one tries." 



She left the room hurriedly and sought the 

 stable-yard, where she found Moriarty. 



" Moriarty," she said, " the baih£f has come, 

 and he's just going to look at the horses. Be 

 sure and whatever you do be civil to him." 



" Yes, miss," rephed Moriarty. 



" Tell Andy the same." 



" Yes, miss." 



" I'm going round to the kitchen now to bring 

 him." 



" Yes, miss." 



She left the stable-yard and sought the kitchen. 

 Seated in the kitchen, hat in hand, was an in- 

 dividual of uncertain age. French's description 

 hit him off to a T. Pale-faced, scanty-haired, 

 with a trace of side whiskers, he had about him 

 a suggestion of aggressiveness and a suggestion 

 of weakness very disheartening to his new beholder, 

 who, however, smiled upon him as she entered. 



" ^Ir Piper, I beheve? " said Violet, speaking 

 in a hurried and offhand and friendly manner. 

 " I have come round to take you to see the horses. 

 But have you had any luncheon? " 



"Yes, thank you," said Mr Piper, risingto his feet. 



