“What people were they that you stayed with in London, Nancy?” Lavinia inquired of her sister on the first favourable opportunity.
Nancy glanced round the salon before answering, as if to make sure they were alone; but Captain Fennel had gone out for a stroll.
“We were at James Fennel’s, Lavinia.”
“What—the brother’s! And has he a wife?”
“Yes; a wife, but no children. Mrs. James Fennel has money of her own, which she receives weekly.”
“Receives weekly!” echoed Lavinia.
“She owns some little houses which are let out in weekly tenements; an agent collects the rents, and brings her the money every Tuesday morning. She dresses in the shabbiest things sometimes, and does her own housework, and altogether is not what I should call quite a lady, but she is very good-hearted. She did her best to make us comfortable, and never grumbled at our staying so long. I expect Edwin paid her something. James only came home by fits and starts. I think he was in some embarrassment—debt, you know. He used to dash into the house like a whirlwind when he did come, and steal out of it when he left, peering about on all sides.”
“Have they a nice house?” asked Lavinia.
“Oh, good gracious, no! It’s not a house at all, only small lodgings. And Mrs. James changed them twice over whilst we were there. When we first went they were at a place called Ball’s Pond.”