“I did, my dear, and you needn’t be cross.”
“Enough to make any one cross to hear folks talk rubbidge. Pray, how do you know he went out that way?”
“Ah!” exclaimed the housemaid, as much as to say “that’s a poser.”
“Because I had to take the rake and smooth out the footmarks, as was a eyesore to a gardener who takes a pride in his place,” said John with a satisfied smile.
“You did, John?” said cook, giving way directly, and lowering her voice as she drew nearer the speaker, and poured him out another glass of ale.
“Thankye, my dear. Yes; same as I’ve done before.”
“But why should he get out of the window on the sly like that?”
“Larks!” said John Season, giving one eye a peculiar cock. “Why do young men get out of other windows o’ nights, eh?”
“Well, of all!” exclaimed the housemaid.
“Then he ought to be ashamed of himself,” exclaimed cook; “and for two pins I’d go and tell Miss Gertrude myself.”