to that which was good, and she had never been able
to quite lose it. It did far more than the celerity of the chauffeur
to appease Thomas Batchgrew.

Snorting and self-conscious, and with his white whiskers flying behind
him, he stepped in his two overcoats across the narrow, muddy pavement
and on to Mrs. Tarn's virgin stonework, and with two haughty black
footmarks he instantly ruined it. The tragedy produced no effect on
Mrs. Tams. And indeed nobody in the Five Towns would have been moved
by it. For the social convention as to porticoes enjoined, not that
they should remain clean, but simply that they should show evidence
of having been clean at some moment early in each day. It mattered not
how dirty they were in general, provided that the religious and futile
rite of stoning had been demonstrably performed during the morning.

Mrs. Tams adroitly moved her bucket, aside, though there was plenty
of room for feet even larger than those of Thomas Batchgrew, and then
waited to be spoken to. She was not spoken to. Mr. Batchgrew, after
hesitating and clearing his throat, proceeded up the steps, defiling
them. As he did so Mrs. Tams screwed together all her features and
clenched her hands as if in agony, and stared horribly at the open
front door, which was blowing to. It seemed that she was trying to
arrest the front door by sheer force of muscular contraction. She did
not succeed. Gently the door closed, with a firm click of its latch,
in face of Mr. Batchgrew.

"Nay, nay!" muttered Mrs. Tarns, desolated.

And Mr. Batchgrew, once more justly angered, raised his hand to the
heavy knocker.

"Dunna' knock, mester! Dunna' knock!" Mrs. Tarns implored in a
whisper. "Missis is asleep. Miss Rachel's been up aw night wi' her,
seemingly, and now her's gone off in a doze like, and Miss Rachel's
resting, too, on th' squab i' th' parlor. Doctor was fetched."

Apparently charging Mrs. Tarns with responsibility for the illness,
Mr. Batchgrew demanded severely--

"What was it?"

"One o' them attacks as her has," said Mrs. Tarns with a meekness that
admitted she could offer no defence, "only wuss!"

"Hurry round to th' back door and let me in."

"I doubt back door's bolted on th' inside," said Mrs. Tarns with deep
humility.

"This is ridiculous," said Mr. Batchgrew, truly. "Am I to stand here
all day?" And raised his hand to the knocker.

Mrs. Tarns with swiftness darted up the steps and inserted a large,
fat, wet hand b