"His black Minorca?" I repeated vaguely.
"Yes, mum. One of his hens as got a first prize, and was a rare layer."
"Oh!" I murmured.
"I must go now," she said, "and put the potatoes on for your lunch. And don't you fret about the work, mum. As soon as ever nurse has gone, who makes a power of mess, I shall have plenty of time and to spare, and can put a patch on my pink body."
"What, another?" I almost shouted. "That will make the seventh."
She regarded me with uplifted brows.
"You don't want the bones of my stays to come through, mum?"
"Oh, no," I assured her quickly. "But is it necessary to have quite so many bones? I have only about six altogether."
She looked me up and down with an eye devoid of any admiration.
"Of course, I don't wear corsets at all now," I hastened to explain.