"Her landlord has some duties to her," Mrs. Barkley said, angrily. "The stairs are just crumbling to pieces, and that chimney is dreadful. She says that Davis said the flue would have to be rebuilt, and maybe the whole chimney. He couldn't be sure about that, but he thought it probable. He said it would cost $100 to put all the things in repair—floor and roof and everything. But he would do it for $85, considering. He thinks the flue has broken down inside somehow. She might burn up some night; and then," said Mrs. Barkley, in a deep bass, "how would that Smith person feel?"
"He says," Dr. Lavendar explained, "that by the terms of the lease the tenant is to make repairs."
Mrs. Barkley snorted. "And how is poor Lydia to make repairs? She hasn't two cents to bless herself with. I told him so."
Mrs. Barkley's face grew very red at the recollection of her interview with Mr. Smith (he was one of the new Smiths, of course). "I don't mix philanthropy and business," he had said; "the lease says the tenant shall make repairs. And, besides, I do not wish to be more attractive than I am. With that chimney, some other landlord may win her affections. Without it, she will never desert Mr. Micawber."
"I am not acquainted with your friend Mr. Micawber," said Mrs. Barkley, "neither, I am sure, is Miss Sampson; and if you will allow me to say so, sir, we do not in Old Chester consider it delicate to refer to the affections of an unmarried female."
Upon which Mr. Smith laughed immoderately. (None of the new people had any manners.)
"So there is no use asking him to do anything," Mrs. Barkley told Dr. Lavendar.
"The only thing I can think of," the old minister said, "is that we all join together and give her the price Davis named, as a present."
"Eighty-five dollars!" Mrs. Barkley exclaimed, startled; "that's a good deal of money—"
"Well, yes; it is. But something has got to be done."