"What woman?"

"Mrs. Butt."

And he explained to Helen all his elaborate precautions for the
preservation of his China tea. Helen was wholly sympathetic. The utter
correctness of her attitude towards Mrs. Butt was balm to him. Only one
theory was conceivable. The wretched woman must have had a key to his
caddy. During his absence from the house she must have calmly helped
herself to tea at five shillings a pound--a spoonful or so at a time.
Doubtless she made tea for her private consumption exactly when she
chose. It was even possible that she walked off from time to time with
quantities of tea to her own home. And he who thought himself so clever,
so much cleverer than a servant!

"You can't have her back, as she isn't honest, even if she comes back,"
said Helen.

"Oh, her won't come back," said James. "Fact is, I've had difficulties
with her for a long time now."

"Then what shall you do, my poor dear uncle?"

"Nay," said he, "I mun ask you that. It was you as was th' cause of her
going."

"Oh, uncle!" she exclaimed, laughing. "How can you say such a thing?"
And she added, seriously: "You can't be expected to cook for yourself,
can you? And as for getting a new one--"