"She was here last week—a Variety artist. She seems to have been comfortable, as she gave the landlady her photograph. Are you ready for supper?"
"Stout?"
"Of course."
"In a jug?"
"Well, I thought after what you had come from I had better order Guinness."
For a moment Rosalind looked downcast. "Ah well, never mind," she said; "we'll have it in a jug to-morrow."
They drew their chairs to the ham-and-beef, and the landlady brought in the Guinness.
"Good evening, Ma," said Rosalind, with youth in her bosom.
"Good evening, my dear," said Mrs. Cheney. "You'll be glad of your supper, I daresay, after your journey?" She put comestibles on the table in three paper bags. "I was meaning to tell you, Miss Lascelles, that if you'd like a bit of something hot in the evening when you come back from the show, you can have it. I'm not one to fuss about hotting something up. Sundays we let the fire out, but in the week you can have it and welcome."
"Good business!" said Miss Lascelles. "In some places you 'get it hot' if you ask for it."