His anxiety to have the child impressed his landlady as a very odd thing. She could understand his admiration of Nelly; she could also understand his calling her in and giving her a kiss and a present. No man’s heart, she considered, could fail to be warmed by the sight of so pretty a little girl. But she could not understand him posting himself at the window, and looking troubled because he did not see the child, and showing himself as anxious to have her to tea as if she was a grown woman, and he was courting her.
She sailed across the road (watched by Holdsworth), her cap-strings streaming over her shoulders, and walked up to the door of the Conways’ house, and gave a single knock. She was kept waiting so long, that when the door was at last opened by the “bit of a slut,” who, to judge by her complexion, appeared to have been devoting the last hour or two to black-leading her face, Mrs. Parrot, instead of asking for Mrs. Conway, began storming at her for “kaping respectable folks on the doorsteps while she sat readin’ ha’porths o’ bad fiction by the kitchen fire.”
“I wasn’t readin’. I didn’t hear yer. Who do you want—missus?” said the girl sulkily.
“Why, Mrs. Conway, of course. Show me in, and go an’ tell her at once that I’m here,” replied Mrs. Parrot, not waiting to be shown in, but pushing into the middle of the passage.
The girl shambled off, and presently Mrs. Conway came up the kitchen stairs. The skirt of her dress was pinned up at the waist, and her arm-sleeves were above her elbows, displaying the whiteness and fineness of the skin, though the arms were very thin.
“How do you do, Mrs. Parrot? You will excuse my wretched untidy appearance. I am doing a little washing downstairs, and would not keep you waiting whilst I made myself presentable.”
“Niver mention it, ma’am,” answered Mrs. Parrot, looking with pleasure, mingled with pain, at the sweet face, in which, now that there was no hat to shadow it the sorrow and care were clearly seen. Her prettiness was but enhanced by the looped-up skirt, showing the little feet and small firm ankles. Her bright hair was in disorder, and there was the little flush of recent exertion on her cheeks.
“I’ve called wi’ a message from my gentleman lodger. He wants Miss Nelly to drink tea with him, and sent me across to ask you to let her come.”
“The same gentleman who gave Nelly a shilling yesterday?” asked Dolly, looking half surprised and half pleased.