"Oh, I am well satisfied here," said Hieronymus cheerily. "Your little wife is a capital hostess: somewhat of the tyrant, you know. Still, one likes that; until one gets to the fourth cup of beef-tea! And she is an excellent cook, and the Green Dragon is most comfortable. I've nothing to complain of except my hand. That is a nuisance, for I wanted to do some writing. I suppose there is no one here who could write for me."
"Well," said Mr. Benbow, "perhaps the missus can. She can do most things. She's real clever."
Mrs. Benbow, being consulted on this matter, confessed that she could not do much in that line.
"I used to spell pretty well once," she said brightly; "but the brewing and the scouring and the looking after other things have knocked all that out of me."
"You wrote to me finely when I was away," her husband said. He was a quiet fellow, and proud of his little wife, and liked people to know how capable she was.
"Ah, but you aren't over-particular, Ben, bless you," she answered, laughing, and running away to her many duties. Then she returned to tell Hieronymus that there was a splendid fire in the kitchen, and that he was to go and sit there.
"I'm busy doing the washing in the back-yard," she said. "Ben has gone to look after the sheep. Perhaps you'll give an eye to the door, and serve out the ale. It would help me mighty. I'm rather pressed for time to-day. We shall brew to-morrow, and I must get the washing done this afternoon."
She took it for granted that he would obey, and of course he did. He transferred himself, his pipe, and his book to the front kitchen, and prepared for customers. Hieronymus Howard had once been an ambitious man, but never before had he been seized by such an overwhelming aspiration as now possessed him--to serve out the Green Dragon ale!
"If only some one would come!" he said to himself scores of times.
No one came. Hieronymus, becoming impatient, sprang up from his chair and gazed anxiously out of the window, just in time to see three men stroll into the opposite inn.