'Oh, no fear,' he replied, with a high laugh. 'Quite accustomed. Thanks awfully, Miss—pardon—forgotten the name.'
But Miss Rodney was back in her sitting-room, and had closed the door.
Her breakfast next morning was served by Mabel Turpin, the elder daughter, a stupidly good-natured girl, who would fain have entered into conversation. Miss Rodney replied to a question that she had slept well, and added that, when she rang her bell, she would like to see Mrs. Turpin. Twenty minutes later the landlady entered.
'You wanted me, miss?' she began, in what was meant for a voice of dignity and reserve. 'I don't really wait on lodgers myself.'
'We'll talk about that another time, Mrs. Turpin. I wanted to say, first of all, that you have spoiled a piece of good bacon and two good eggs. I must trouble you to cook better than this.'
'I'm very sorry, miss, that nothing seems to suit you'
'Oh, we shall get right in time!' interrupted Miss Rodney cheerfully. 'You will find that I have patience. Then I wanted to ask you whether your husband and your lodger come home tipsy every night, or only on Saturdays?'
The woman opened her eyes as wide as saucers, trying hard to look indignant.
'Tipsy, miss?'
'Well, perhaps I should have said "drunk"; I beg your pardon.'