But the long-suffering Mrs Stiff was now fully roused, and determined to hold the ground which she had gained. She said, and very justly, that she could not afford to go on upon such terms, as the result must be notice to quit from their own landlord. She was determined now to have a thorough clearance, or Mr Redgrave must get apartments where people did not mind having their rooms made into a “wild beast show.”
This being the climax of Mrs Stiff’s speech, that lady flounced out of the room, the centre of an aërial vortex raised by her voluminous garments, leaving Lionel Redgrave and his landlord staring very hard at one another.
“I say, you know, what’s to be done?” said the young man, at last.
Mr Stiff shook his head as solemnly as a sexton welcoming a fully furnished funeral, when, leaping up angrily, to his landlord’s great astonishment, Lionel threw up the window, and then, though not without some difficulty, set at liberty the whole of his birds, the parrot rewarding him for his kindness by nipping a piece out of his finger.
“There, now!” said Lionel, binding a handkerchief round his bleeding finger, after directing a blow right from the shoulder at the offending parrot, which, it is hardly necessary to say, missed its aim—“there now! take those empty cages away, and send the girl to sweep up the bits.”
Mr Stiff winked to himself as he obeyed, and rattled out of the room with quite a load of cages, but only to return at the end of five minutes.
“Well,” said Lionel, inquiringly, “what now?”
“About them there ferrets, sir?” said Mr Stiff.
“Oh! take them away by all means,” said Lionel, impatiently.
“Yes, sir, in course; but what shall I do with them?”