"Well, sir, I'm sure I don't know how it got there, but it fell out of the bottom of the incinerator."
A stifled gasp from Mathilda brought Joseph's head round. He was looking suitably grave, but when he met her brimming eyes his gravity vanished, and he gave a sudden chuckle.
"I must say, Joseph, I don't know what you find to laugh at!" said Maud,
"I'm sorry, my dear! It was just a piece of foolishness. It's most annoying for you really, very tiresome indeed! But never mind! After all, we have things so much more serious to worry about, haven't we?"
This well-meant comfort entirely failed in its object. "No, Joseph, I cannot agree with you. I was particularly interested in the Empress's life, and, as you see, all the first and last pages have been burnt away. And, what is more, it is a book from the lending-library, and I shall have to pay for it." A slight flush reddened her plump cheeks; she sat very straight in her chair, and, directing an accusing stare upon the Sergeant, said: "I should like to know who threw my book into the incinerator!"
The Sergeant knew himself to be blameless in every respect, but his feeling of guilt grew under the indignant old lady's gaze. "I couldn't say, madam. Perhaps it was thrown away by accident,"
"That would be it!" exclaimed Joseph, seizing gratefully this explanation. "No doubt it got picked up with the newspapers, or - or fell into a wastepaper-basket, and that's how it happened."
"I shall ask the servants," said Maud, rising from her chair. "If that is what happened, it is most careless, and they will have to pay for it."
"I shouldn't, if I were you," said Paula. "They'll give notice in a bunch. Besides, I'll bet Stephen did it."
Joseph shot her an anguished look. "Paula! Must you?"