"Dear no—not papa. You 'll do, miss, all but them loose 'airs," Susan went on. "Your papa never came 'ome at all," she added.
"From where?" Wondering a little absently and very excitedly, Maisie gave a wild manual brush of her locks.
"Oh, that, miss, I should be very sorry to tell you! I 'd rather tuck away that white thing behind—though I 'm blessed if it's my work."
"Do then, please. I know where papa was," Maisie continued impatiently.
"Well, in your place I would n't tell."
"He was at the club—the Chrysanthemum. So!"
"All night long? Why, the flowers shut up at night, you know!" cried Susan Ash.
"Well, I don't care"—the child was at the door. "Sir Claude asked for me all alone?"
"The same as if you was a duchess."
Maisie was aware on her way downstairs that she was now quite as happy as one, and also, a moment later, as she hung round his neck, that even such a personage would scarce commit herself more grandly. There was moreover a hint of the duchess in the