So No. 9 remained locked up and tenantless until a quarter past eleven, when Mr Maybury arrived home.
The others trailed in half an hour later, Frank bursting with laughter over the antics and wheezes of the principal low comedian. Between twelve and one Dora and Mr Jefferson came.
Dora, strangely silent, went to her room at once. Mr Jefferson, on the other hand, seemed much elated, and chatted gaily for some minutes before he took his departure.
Dora had not been in her room long before there came a little tap at her door, followed by the entrance of Mary.
"Oh, Miss, I'm sure you must be tired," said Mary; "may I help you?"
"If you like, Mary; yes, I am very tired."
Dora sighed as she sat down in front of her glass. Mary hastened to comb and brush her young mistress's hair. It was like old times to Dora, having her hair brushed by a maid--the old times when Mr Maybury was wealthy and held his head high in the commercial world. But now, alas! he was only a clerk in the office of the man who had taken Dora to the theatre that night! Her diamonds came from the man who paid her father a weekly wage!
"Oh, Miss, wasn't the pantomime lovely?"
"Yes, it was very nice," replied Dora, absent-mindedly. Then, rousing herself a little, she said: "And did you enjoy the concert, Mary?"
"Oh, Miss Dora, it was grand! And so was the doctor, Miss!"