After this delightful conversation, Mr. Prentice went across the road again. He felt that he could not any longer refrain from calling upon Mrs. Marsden; and, as the afternoon was now well advanced, he thought that she might perhaps invite him to drink a cup of tea with her.
In St. Saviour's Court the house door stood open; men from Bence's Furniture department were busily delivering chairs and sofas; and the narrow passage was obstructed by further goods. Mr. Prentice heard a familiar voice issuing instructions with a sharp tone of command.
"This is for the top floor. Front bedroom. Take this up too—same room.... Who's that out there? Oh, is it you, Mr. Prentice?"
"What, Yates, you are soon on duty again."
Old Yates laughed and tossed her head. "Yes, sir, here I am.... That's for the top floor—back. Take it up steady, now."
"You seem to be refurnishing—and on a large scale."
"Oh, no," said Yates. "We're only putting things straight. We're expecting Mrs. Kenion and the young lady up from Eastbourne to-night—and it's a job to get the house ready in the time."
"Ah, then I am afraid visitors will hardly be welcome just now."
"No, sir, not ordinary visitors—but Mrs. Thompson never counted you as an ordinary visitor—did she, sir? I'll take on me to say you'll be welcome to Mrs. Thompson. Please go upstairs, sir. She's in the dining-room."
And truly this visitor was welcomed most cordially.