"Now look 'ere, sir," said Bindle, "there's been a little mistake, an' this young lady is willin' to forgive an' forget, an' you ain't a-goin' to 'old out, are you? Now you jest run in an' get rid o' them petticoats, come out lookin' like a man, an' then wot-o! for a nice little breakfast which'll all be over before your missis turns up at ten o'clock, see! You can trust me, married myself I am," he added as if to explain his breadth of view in such matters.
"But I can't——" began Mr. Stiffson.
"Oh, yes you can, sir, an' wot's more you'll like it." Bindle gently propelled the protesting Mr. Stiffson past Cissie Boye towards his room.
"Don't forget now, in a quarter of an hour, I'll be up with the coffee an' bacon an' eggs. You're a rare lucky cove, sir, only you don't know it."
"I'm so hungry," wailed Cissie Boye.
"Of course you are, miss," said Bindle sympathetically. "I'll get a move on."
"Oh! isn't he delicious," gurgled Cissie Boye. "Isn't he a perfect scream; but how did he get here, Mr. Porter?"
"Well, miss, the only wonder to me is that 'alf Fulham ain't 'ere to see you a-lookin' like that. Now you jest get a rinse in your room an'——"
"A rinse, what's that?" enquired Cissie.
"You does it with soap an' water, miss, an' you might add a bit or two of lace, jest in case the neighbours was to come in. Now I must be orf. Old Sedgy ain't at 'er best after them 'alf days with Royal Richard. Don't let 'im nip orf, miss, will you?" Bindle added anxiously. "'E's that modest an' retirin' like, that e' might try."