"Oh, no; but the landlord wishes it to be aired and swept; to keep it in some degree of order, I presume."
"What is the name of this woman?"
"Mrs. Kebby."
"The same mentioned in the newspaper reports as having waited on my unhappy father?"
"The same," replied Lucian, with some hesitation; "but I would advise you, Miss Vrain, not to question her too closely about your father."
"Why not? Ah! I see; you think her answers about his drinking habits will give me pain. No matter; I am prepared for all that. I don't blame him so much as those who drove him to intemperance. Is this the house?" she said, looking earnestly at the neglected building before which they were standing.
"Yes," replied Lucian, ringing the bell, "it was in this house that your father came to his untimely end. And here is Mrs. Kebby."
That amiable crone had opened the door while the young man was speaking, and now stood eyeing her visitors with a blear-eyed look of dark suspicion.
"What is't ye want?" she demanded, with a raven-like croak.
"Mr. Peacock has given this lady and myself permission to go over the house," responded Lucian, trying to pass.