“Nonsense, nonsense!� Mr. Popham squeezed the red hand and dropped it gently. “I’ll come and see you from time to time.�
“And leave your little country inn?� said Mellicent, trying to smile. “You won’t be able!�
“I could leave the landlady in charge,� suggested Mr. Popham. “Stop, though, a landlady is the kind of article that doesn’t go with the furniture and fixtures. I shall have to look out for her myself.� His face changed. “Upon my word I shall!�
“I know the kind you’ll choose,� sighed Miss Mellicent. “And the best won’t be good enough for you, Mr. Popham. She must be young and fair and plump and rosy and blue-eyed, with golden curls like the Fairy Queen in that pantomime, or the lovely dolls I see in the shop windows when I’m out buying meat and groceries for the gentlemen. And her hands must be as white and soft as mine are red and hard. And——�
“Don’t cry, my dear!� begged Mr. Popham. He stooped over her as she hid her flaming cheeks in the hard-worked hands. “You have pretty hair, Miss Mellicent,� he said, with a sensation of surprise at the discovery.
“I’ve been turning out rooms,� she sobbed, “and it’s full of dust!�
“And you’d have a pretty figure,� said Mr. Popham, now embarked upon a career of discovery, “if you took the trouble to pull ’em in. And you’re young—barely thirty—and I’m ten years older. And you’re a first-class double extra A.1. housekeeper, cook, and manager. See here! Give the lady proprietor a month’s notice, and come and be landlady of the Bastling Arms at Helsham!�
“You—you’re not in earnest?�
She faced him, quivering, transfigured, panting.
“Ain’t I?� remarked Mr. Popham simply. “Say ‘Yes,’ Miss Mellicent, give me a kiss, and we shall both begin to believe it. Run and change your dress, and we’ll call a cab and make another evening of it, and if the Alhambra ballet won’t do as well as the pantomime, under the present circumstances, I shall be surprised! There’s John Henry’s knock at the hall-door. He brings good news, or it wouldn’t be such a loud one. It takes the girl ten minutes to get up the kitchen stairs; she’s a born crawler, if ever there was one, and I’ve a fancy I should like you to let the boy in—if you’ve no objection?�