Mrs. Turpin,' said Rawcliffe in an offhand way, as he glanced
at the bill, 'how much exactly do I owe you?'

Pleasantly agitated, his landlady mentioned the sum.

'Ah! I must settle that. I tell you what, Mrs. Turpin. Let it stand over
for another month, and we'll square things up at Christmas. Will that suit
you?'

And, by way of encouragement, he paid his week's account on the spot,
without a penny of deduction. Mrs. Turpin left the room in greater
embarrassment than ever.

Saturday came. At breakfast Miss Rodney sent for the landlady, who made a
timid appearance just within the room.

'Good morning, Mrs. Turpin. What news have you for me? You know what I
mean?'

The landlady took a step forward, and began babbling excuses, explanations,
entreaties. She was coldly and decisively interrupted.

'Thank you, Mrs. Turpin, that will do. A week to-day I leave.'

With a sound which was half a sob and half grunt Mrs. Turpin bounced from
the room. It was now inevitable that she should report the state of things
to her husband, and that evening half an hour's circumlocution brought her
to the point. Which of the two lodgers should go? The carpenter paused,
pipe in mouth, before him a geometrical figure over which he had puzzled
for a day or two, and about which, if he could find courage, he wished to
consult the High School mistress. He reflected for five minutes, and
uttered an unhesitating decision. Mr. Rawcliffe must go. Naturally, his
wife broke into indignant clamour, and the debate lasted for an hour or
two; but Turpin could be firm when he liked, and he had solid reasons for
preferring to keep Miss Rodney in the house. At four o'clock Mrs. Turpin
crept softly to the sitting-room where her offended lodger was quietly
reading.

'I wanted just to say, miss, that I'm willing to give Mr. Rawcliffe notice
next Wednesday.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Turpin,' was the cold reply. 'I have already taken other
rooms.'

The landlady gasped, and for a moment could say nothing. Then she besought
Miss Rodney to change her mind. Mr. Rawcliffe should leave, indeed he
should, on Wednesday week. But Miss Rodney had only one reply; she had
found other rooms that suited her, and she requested to be left in peace.

At eleven Mr. Rawcliffe came home. He was unnaturally sober, for Saturday
night, and found his way into the parlour without difficulty. There in a
minute or two he was confronted by his landlady and her husband: they
closed th