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‘I’m sure, miss, nobody could ever say that my ‘usband took too much–not to say really too much. You may have heard him a bit merry, miss, but where’s the harm of a Saturday night?’

‘Thank you. Then it is only on Saturday nights that Mr. Turpin becomes merry. I’m glad to know that. I shall get used to these little things.’

But Mrs. Turpin did not feel sure that she would get used to her lodger. Sunday was spoilt for her by this beginning. When her husband woke from his prolonged slumbers, and shouted for breakfast (which on this day of rest he always took in bed), the good woman went to him with downcast visage, and spoke querulously of Miss Rodney’s behaviour.

‘I won’t wait upon her, so there! The girls may do it, and if she isn’t satisfied let her give notice. I’m sure I shan’t be sorry. She’s given me more trouble in a day than poor Mrs. Brown did all the months she was here. I won’t be at her beck and call, so there!’

Before night came this declaration was repeated times innumerable, and as it happened that Miss Rodney made no demand for her landlady’s attendance, the good woman enjoyed a sense of triumphant self-assertion. On Monday morning Mabel took in the breakfast, and reported that Miss Rodney had made no remark; but, a quarter of an hour later, the bell rang, and Mrs. Turpin was summoned. Very red in the face, she obeyed. Having civilly greeted her, Miss Rodney inquired at what hour Mr. Turpin took his breakfast, and was answered with an air of surprise that he always left the house on week-days at half-past seven.

‘In that case,’ said Miss Rodney, ‘I will ask permission to come into your kitchen at a quarter to eight to-morrow morning, to show you how to fry bacon and boil eggs. You mustn’t mind. You know that teaching is my profession.’

Mrs. Turpin, nevertheless, seemed to mind very much. Her generally good-tempered face wore a dogged sullenness, and she began to mutter something about such a thing never having been heard of; but Miss Rodney paid no heed, renewed the appointment for the next morning, and waved a cheerful dismissal.

Talking with a friend that day, the High School mistress gave a humorous description of her lodgings, and when the friend remarked that they must be very uncomfortable, and that surely she would not stay there, Miss Rodney replied that she had the firmest intention of staying, and, what was more, of being comfortable.

‘I’m going to take that household in hand,’ she added. ‘The woman is foolish, but can be managed, I think, with a little patience. I’m going to tackle the drunken husband as soon as I see my way. And as for the highly connected gentleman whose candle I had the honour of lighting, I shall turn him out.’

‘You have your work set!’ exclaimed the friend, laughing.

‘Oh, a little employment for my leisure! This kind of thing relieves the monotony of a teacher’s life, and prevents one from growing old.’

Very systematically she pursued her purpose of getting Mrs. Turpin ‘in hand.’ The two points at which she first aimed were the keeping clean of her room and the decent preparation of her meals. Never losing temper, never seeming to notice the landlady’s sullen mood, always using a tone of legitimate authority, touched sometimes with humorous compassion, she exacted obedience to her directions, but was well aware that at any moment the burden of a new civilisation might prove too heavy for the Turpin family and cause revolt. A week went by; it was again Saturday, and Miss Rodney devoted a part of the morning (there being no school to-day) to culinary instruction. Mabel and Lily shared the lesson with their mother, but both young ladies wore an air of condescension, and grimaced at Miss Rodney behind her back. Mrs. Turpin was obstinately mute. The pride of ignorance stiffened her backbone and curled her lip.