The highly improper words William used I will omit， out ofconsideration for him. Even while he was apologizing for themI retired to the smoking-room， where I found the cigarettesso badly rolled that they would not keep alight. After a littleI remembered that I wanted to see Myddleton Finch about animproved saddle of which a friend of his has the patent. Hewas in the news-room， and having questioned him about thesaddle， I said：
“By the way， what is this story about your swearing at one ofthe waiters？”
“You mean about his swearing at me，” Myddleton Finchreplied， reddening.
“I am glad that was it，” I said. “For I could not believe youguilty of such bad form.”
“If I did swear—” he was beginning， but I went on：
“The version which reached me was that you swore at him，and he repeated the word. I heard he was to be dismissed andyou reprimanded.”
“Who told you that？” asked Myddleton Finch， who is a timidman.
“I forget； it is club talk，” I replied lightly. “But of course thecommittee will take your word. The waiter， whichever onehe is， richly deserves his dismissal for insulting you withoutprovocation.”
Then our talk returned to the saddle， but Myddleton Finchwas abstracted， and presently he said：
“Do you know， I fancy I was wrong in thinking that waiterswore at me， and I’ll withdraw my charge to-morrow.”
Myddleton Finch then left me， and， sitting alone， I realizedthat I had been doing William a service. To some slight extentI may have intentionally helped him to retain his place in theclub， and I now see the reason， which was that he alone knowsprecisely to what extent I like my claret heated.
For a mere second I remembered William’s remark thathe should not be able to see the girl Jenny from the librarywindows. Then this recollection drove from my head that I hadonly dined in the sense that my dinner-bill was paid. Returningto the dining-room， I happened to take my chair at the window，and while I was eating a devilled kidney I saw in the street thegirl whose nods had such an absurd effect on William.
The children of the poor are as thoughtless as their parents，and this Jenny did not sign to the windows in the hope thatWilliam might see her， though she could not see him. Her face，which was disgracefully dirty， bore doubt and dismay on it， butwhether she brought good news it would not tell. Somehow Ihad expected her to signal when she saw me， and， though hermessage could not interest me， I was in the mood in whichone is irritated at that not taking place which he is awaiting.
Ultimately she seemed to be making up her mind to go away.
A boy was passing with the evening papers， and I hurriedout to get one， rather thoughtlessly， for we have all the papersin the club. Unfortunately I misunderstood the direction theboy had taken； but round the first corner （out of sight of theclub windows） I saw the girl Jenny， and so I asked her howWilliam’s wife was.
“Did he send you to me？” she replied， impertinently takingme for a waiter. “My！” she added， after a second scrutiny， “Ib"lieve you’re one of them. His missis is a bit better， and I wasto tell him as she took all the tapiocar.”
“How could you tell him？” I asked.
“I was to do like this，” she replied， and went through thesupping of something out of a plate in dumb show.
“That would not show she ate all the tapioca，” I said.
“But I was to end like this，” she answered， licking animaginary plate with her tongue. I gave her a shilling （to getrid of her）， and returned to the club disgusted.
Later in the evening I had to go to the club library for abook， and while William was looking in vain for it （I hadforgotten the title） I said to him：
“By the way， William， Mr. Myddleton Finch is to tell thecommittee that he was mistaken in the charge he broughtagainst you， so you will doubtless be restored to the diningroomto-morrow.”
The two members were still in their chairs， probablysleeping lightly； yet he had the effrontery to thank me.
“Don’t thank me，” I said， blushing at the imputation.
“Remember your place， William！”
“But Mr. Myddleton Finch knew I swore，” he insisted.
“A gentleman，” I replied， stiffly， “cannot remember fortwenty-four hours what a waiter has said to him.”
“No， sir， but—”
To stop him I had to say：
“And， ah， William， your wife is a little better. She has eatenthe tapioca—all of it.”
“How can you know， sir？”
“By an accident.”
“Jenny signed to the window.”
“No.”
“Then you saw her， and went out， and—”
“Nonsense！”
“Oh， sir， to do that for me！ May God bl—”
“William！”
“Forgive me， sir， but—when I tell my missis， she will say itwas thought of your own wife as made you do it.”
He wrung my hand. I dared not withdraw it， lest we shouldwaken the sleepers.
William returned to the dining-room， and I had to showhim that， if he did not cease looking gratefully at me， I mustchange my waiter. I also ordered him to stop telling me nightlyhow his wife was， but I continued to know， as I could nothelp seeing the girl Jenny from the window. Twice in a weekI learned from this objectionable child that the ailing womanhad again eaten all the tapioca. Then I became suspicious ofWilliam. I will tell why.
It began with a remark of Captain Upjohn’s. We had beenspeaking of the inconvenience of not being able to get a hotdish served after 1 A.M.， and he said：
“It is because these lazy waiters would strike. If the beggarshad a love of their work， they would not rush away from theclub the moment one o’clock strikes. That glum fellow whooften waits on you takes to his heels the moment he is clear ofthe club steps. He ran into me the other night at the top of thestreet， and was off without apologizing.”
“You mean the foot of the street， Upjohn，” I said， for such isthe way to Drury Lane.
“No； I mean the top. The man was running west.”
“East.”
“West.”