Everybody nice went away, Michael thought. It was extraordinary how only nasty food and nasty people were wholesome.
Mrs. Frith’s departure was even more exciting than her stories. One afternoon Michael found her in the kitchen, dancing about with her skirts kilted above her knees. He was a little embarrassed at first, but very soon he had to laugh because she was evidently not behaving like this in order to show off, but because she enjoyed dancing about the kitchen.
“Why are you dancing, Mrs. Frith?” he asked.
“Happy as a lark, lovey,” she answered in an odd voice. “Happy as a lark, for we won’t go home till morning, we won’t go home till morning,” and singing, she twirled round and round until she sank into a wicker arm-chair. At this moment Annie came running downstairs with Nurse, and both of them glared at Mrs. Frith with shocked expressions.
“What ever are you doing, Cook?” said Nurse.
“That’s all right, lovey. That’s All Sir Garnet, and don’t you make no mistake. Don’t you—make no mistake.”
Here Mrs. Frith gave a very loud hiccup and waved her arms and did not even say ‘beg pardon’ for the offensive noise.
“Michael,” said Nurse, “go upstairs at once. Mrs. Frith, get up. You ignorant and vulgar woman. Get up.”
“And you ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Cook to Nurse. “You old performing monkey, that’s what you are.”
“Annie,” said Nurse, “fetch a policeman in, and go and get this woman’s box.”