But his train of thought was interrupted by a timid knock at the door. It was their last new housemaid, come to ask if the master and the mistress required anything further to-night. She remained on the threshold, breathing hard, and staring shyly, while she waited for an answer—a bouncing, apple-cheeked, country bumpkin of a girl, who had accepted very modest wages for this her first place.
"No," said Marsden shortly, "I don't want anything more—What's your name?"
"Susan, sir."
"All right. Then shut the door, Susan."
"Good night, Susan," said Mrs. Marsden kindly.
"Where did you pick her up?" asked Marsden, when the girl had gone. "She's healthy enough and plump enough—but she looks half-baked."
"She will do very well, if you give her time to learn."
"Oh, I'll let her learn, if you can teach her.... But what was I saying? Oh, yes—about the furniture!"
Then he walked round the room, pointing at different things, and continuing his questions.