"Come along, Mrs. Potten," he said crossly; "we shall have to have the lamps lit if we wait any longer."
But they were not her lamps that would have to be lit, burning her oil, and Mrs. Potten released the Warden with much regret.
"So the poor little note was never found," she said, as she held out her hand for good-bye. "I know it's a trifle, but in these days everything is serious, everything! And after I had scribbled off my note to you from Eliston's I thought I might have given Miss Scott two ten-shilling notes instead of one, just by mistake, and that she hadn't noticed, of course."
"I thought of that," said Lady Dashwood, "and I asked Mrs. Harding; but she said that she had got the correct notes—thirty shillings."
"Well, good-bye," said Mrs. Potten. "I am sorry to have troubled everybody, but in war time one has to be careful. One never knows what may happen. Strange things have happened and will happen. Don't you think so, Warden?"
"Stranger than perhaps we think of," said the Warden, and he raised his hat to go.
"Come, Bernard," said Mrs. Potten, "I must try and tear you away. Good-bye, good-bye!" and even then she lingered and looked at the Warden.
"Good-bye, Marian," said Lady Dashwood, firmly.
"I am afraid you are very tired," whispered May in her aunt's ear, as they turned up the Broad.
"Rather tired," said Lady Dashwood. "Too tired to hear Marian's list of names, nothing but names!"