After some delay the door was opened by a slatternly maid of tender years, for her hair still hung down her back in a plaited queue.
The girl surveyed Jim, and then said, "Are you the new boarder, please?" Then, before Jim could reply, she turned swiftly round and exclaimed, in a shrill voice, "Oh, shut hup, Master Frank!"
A boyish laugh rang out, and Jim, peering into the gloomy hall, perceived a lad aged about fourteen accoutred in Etons a good deal the worse for wear--apparently harmony reigned at No. 9 as far as appearances went--with a gleeful smirk on his face.
"Yes," said Jim, "I am Mr Mortimer."
"Will you come in, please?" the girl rejoined, and again swished round to remonstrate with her tormentor. "Give hover, Master Frank--I'll tell your ma, I will!"
"Sneak!" observed the amiable young gentleman addressed.
"Leave my 'air alone, then!"
Jim turned round and bade the cabman bring his portmanteau into the house, and as the cabman, with much heavy breathing, deposited the portmanteau in the hall, a large, middle-aged lady emerged from one of the sitting-rooms and treated the new boarder to a gracious smile.
"Dr Mortimer, I presume?"
Jim bowed.