The love of regularity, and of an established order of affairs, born in him and fostered by a life passed in the service of the "Honorable Bateson" and the other gentry, made him cling instinctively to the only person in this crowd whom he could tell for certain to be on the side of law and order.

Something in his oblong face and lank, scanty hair parted precisely in the middle, something in that high collar supporting his lean gills, not subservient exactly, but as it were suggesting that he was in league against all this low-class of fellow, made the policeman say to him: "What's your business, daddy ?" "Oh!" the old butler answered.

"This poor woman.

I'm a witness to her battery." The policeman cast his not unkindly look over the figure of the seamstress.

"You stand here," he said; "I'll pass you in directly." And soon by his offices the two were passed into the port of refuge.
They sat down side by side on the edge of a long, hard, wooden bench; Creed fixing his eyes, whose colour had run into a brownish rim round their centres, on the magistrate, as in old days sun-worshippers would sit blinking devoutly at the sun; and Mrs.Hughs fixing her eyes on her lap, while tears of agony trickled down her face.