aying it in her lap.

"Now, if madam will excuse me, I'll slip awye and tell Jyne."

But telling Jyne was not so simple a matter as it looked. The council
in the kitchen, which at first had been a council and no more, was now
a council of war. As Steptoe entered, Mrs. Courage was saying:

"I shall go to Mr. Rashleigh 'imself and tell 'im that hunder the syme
roof with a baggage none of us will stye."

"You can syve yourself the trouble, Mrs. Courage," Steptoe informed
her. "Mr. Rash 'as just gone out. Besides, I've good news for all of
you." He waited for each to take an appropriate expression, Mrs.
Courage determined, Jane with face eager and alight, Nettie tittering
behind her hand. "Miss Walbrook, which all of us 'as dreaded, is not
a-comin' to our midst. The young lydy Nettie see in the back
spare-room is Mr. Rashleigh's wife."

"Wife!" Mrs. Courage threw up her hands and staggered backward. "'Im
that 'is mother left to me! 'Courage,' says she, 'when I'm gone----'"

Jane crept forward, horrified, stunned. "Them things can't be,
Steptoe."

"Mr. Rash told me so 'imself. I don't know what more we want than
that." Steptoe was not without his diplomacy. "It's a fine thing for
us, girls. This sweet young lydy is not goin' to myke us no trouble
like what the other one would, and belongs right in our own class."

"'Enery Steptoe, speak for yourself," Mrs. Courage said, severely.
"There's no baggages in my class, nor never was, nor never will be."

Jane began to cry. "I'm sure I try to think the best of everyone, but
when such awful things 'appens and 'omes is broken up----"

"Jynie," Steptoe said with authority, "the young missus is wytin' for
'er breakfast. 'Ave the goodness to tyke 'er in 'er grypefruit."

"Jyne Cakebread," Mrs. Courage declared, with an authority even
greater than Steptoe's, "the first as tykes a grypefruit into that
dinin'-room, to set before them as I shouldn't demean myself to nyme,
comes hunder my displeasure."

"I couldn't, Steptoe," Jane pleaded helplessly. "All my life I've
wyted on lydies. 'Ow can you expect me to turn over a new leaf at my
time o' life?"

"Nettie?" Steptoe made the appeal magisterially.

"Oh, I'll do it," Nettie giggled. "'Appy to get another look at 'er. I
sye, she's a sight!"

But Mrs. Courage barred the way. "My niece will wyte on people of
doubtful conduck over my dead corpse."

"Very well, then, Mrs. Courage," Steptoe reasoned. "If you won't serve
the ne