Osip sat down near the fire and folded his arms.
"Information of that kind has its advantages," he said, dryly, "can you tell me anything about Crumel and its inhabitants?"
"Can I tell?" echoed Mrs. Dumps, shrilly contemptuous, "why, I was born and bred here. It is thirty years since I saw the light of day in dear Crumel. Thirty years," repeated Mrs. Dumps, challenging contradiction, which she seemed to expect with regard to her age. Osip might have suggested with some truth that she was over forty, but he did not judge it wise to interrupt the flowing current of her gossip. Nodding gravely he looked into the fire and Mrs. Dumps talked on rapidly, reverting again to the guide-book or to the pamphlet of Mr. Grinder, who was her cousin.
"Crumel," explained Mrs. Dumps, breathlessly, "has three thousand inhabitants, more or less, chiefly less, and the surrounding country is dotted with the delightful residence of well-to-do gentry. Formerly the place was called Legby, in the time of Charles the First; but when General Cromwell visited the then village, during one of his wars, the prosperity increased so greatly through his having made it his headquarters, that the inhabitants, in compliment to the great man, called the then village, Cromwell, which by time has become corrupted to Crumel."
"Very interesting," yawned Osip, visibly bored.
"The minster is tenth century, and very fine," continued the guide-book, "and also Low Church, the vicar being the Rev. Nehemiah Clarke, who is quite a Puritan, out of compliment, no doubt, to Cromwell, or Crumel, to whom the town, formerly the village of Legby, owes its greatness. And they do say," continued Mrs. Dumps, dropping the guide-book, to become merely a gossip, "that Mr. Clarke's daughter, Miss Prudence,--did you ever hear such a name, sir, and she isn't a bit prudent, well, then, Miss Prudence would rather her pa was High Church. I dare say Mr. Ferdinand, who loves Miss Prudence, would like it also, he being quite artistic."
"You have mentioned Mr. Ferdinand several times, Mrs. Dumps. Who is he?"
"An orphan, and so is his sister, Miss Clarice Baird,--wealthy orphans, too, Mr. Osip, I assure you," and Mrs. Dumps nodded vigorously.
Osip showed that he was becoming weary of this conversation, since he was not gathering precisely the information he required. Abruptly he changed the subject. "In this lane----"
"Street," interpolated Mrs. Dumps, indignantly.