The moment they got home, Mrs. Warren again returned to her bedroom, and came back neatly dressed in a black and yellow silk, with a keen appreciation of roast pork and apple sauce, which had been preparing in the oven all the morning. Connie too was hungry.
When the meal came to an end Mrs. Warren said:
"More like a lydy you grows each minute. But, my dear, I must thank yer nivver to open yer mouth when you're out, for yer ain't got the accent. Yer must niver do it until yer has acquired the rightful accent."
"Was that why yer pinched me so 'ard when I axed why yer spoke o' Portland Mansions?" asked Connie.
Mrs. Warren burst into a loud laugh.
"Course it were," she said. "Don't yer nivver do nothing o' that sort agin."
"But we don't live in Portland Mansions. Why did yer say so?" asked Connie.
"Ax no questions and yer'll be told no lies," was Mrs. Warren's response.
She accompanied this apparently innocent speech with a look out of her fierce black eyes which caused poor Connie's heart to sink into her shoes. After a minute Mrs. Warren said:
"To-morrer's Saturday; we'll go out a bit in the morning, and then we'll take train into the country. I promised yer a jaunt, and yer shall 'ave it. I'm thinking a lot o' yer, my dear, and 'ow I can best help such a beautiful young gel. Yer accent must be 'tended to, and the best way to manage that is for you to have a refoined sort o' companion. Ronald is that sort. We'll go and fetch 'im 'ome to-morrer."