Lotte’s landlady, when she saw the policeman’s hand upon Bantom’s collar, and Bantom’s hand upon the policeman’s belt, and the two commence to revolve with frightful rapidity, thought it prudent to take no further part in the interview. She therefore retired, closed her door, bolted it, and put the chain up. She ascended to the room above, and peeped over a blind to ascertain what followed her departure. She heard a great shuffling of feet upon the pavement, and the roar of many voices. There were frequent heavy bumps at the street door, as of human bodies swung violently against it, the knocker rapped at these times, untouched by mortal hand; then the uproar increased, grew, swelled into a mighty sound, and at last she saw the heels of Mr. Bantom quivering in the air, waving above the shoulders of five policemen, who were bearing him off in triumph to that audience with the inspector at the station-house, suggested in the first instance by X 94, but which Bantom had so obstinately refused to attend.
All this while Lotte was on her way to Eaton Square, She paused occasionally to look in at the shops--the drapers’ and the milliners’ commanding the largest portion of her attention; though at the time Mr. Bantom was doing desperate battle against such unequal odds, she was steadfastly regarding a large variety of pipes in a tobacconist’s window, with the intention of one day selecting one, and making him a present of it.
She went on and reached Hyde Park. She struck across towards the Serpentine.
The sky was blue, clear, and serene; the air was balmy, and the soft turf green and smooth. The throngs moving to and fro, in carriages and on foot, dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, made the scene busy and lively, and she tripped on, full of joyful tenderness and freshened spirits, light and free as a bird.
The route she had determined to pursue lay along the path on the banks of the Serpentine river, over the bridge, and so towards Knightsbridge. As she went on, she admired the gay equipages, and the superb dresses of the fair high-bred creatures borne in them, and no touch of envy mingled with her admiration. Glad of heart herself, she was delighted to see how smiling and happy every one appeared--with what a light, elastic step each one seemed to move, and how deliciously the breeze wafted to her ear the unsaddened ring of childish laughter, when suddenly she came upon the boat-house of the Humane Society.