"Only one," said Jane. "It is at the back of the kitchen."
"Then—if we did come—where could our coal be put?" fiercely demanded Dobbs. "I must have my coalhouse to myself, with a lock and key. I don't want the house's fires supplied from my missis's coal."
Jane's cheeks flushed as she turned to the old lady. "Allow me to assure you that your property—of whatever nature it may be—will be perfectly sacred in this house. Whether locked up or not, it will be left untouched by me and mine."
"To be sure, ma'am," pleasantly returned the old lady. "I'm not afraid. You must not mind what Dobbs says: she means nothing."
"And our safe for meat and butter," proceeded that undaunted functionary. "Is there a key to it?"
"And now about the rent?" said the old lady, giving Jane no time to answer that there was a key.
Jane hesitated. And then, with a flush, asked twenty shillings a week.
"My conscience!" uttered Dobbs. "Twenty shillings a week. And us finding spoons and linen!"
"Dobbs," said the old lady. "I don't see that it is so very out of the way. A parlour, two bedrooms, a closet, and the kitchen, all furnished——"
"The closet's an empty, dark hole, and the kitchen's only the use of it, and the bedrooms are carpetless," reiterated Dobbs, drowning her mistress's voice. "But, if anybody asked you for your head, ma'am, you'd just cut it off and give it, if I wasn't at hand to stop you."