drudge of a father having found courage to wring this concession
from Mr Rogers for her health's sake. "You're welcome as blossom, but
you must work for your welcome. Come and help me to cut
bread-and-butter. . . . Palmerston! You bring the kettle and pour a
little water into the teapots, just to get 'em heated."

"Company, is it?" asked Fancy, laying aside her cloak.

"Company?" Mrs Bowldler sniffed. "We've had enough of company to last
us this side of the grave. Ho, I trust the name of company will not be
breathed in _my_ hearing for some time to come!"

"What is it, then?"

"Freaks, I hope; maggots, as my poor dear tender mother used to say; and
all casting double work on the establishment. We must dine separate,
all of a sudden; and now we must have our tea served separate; and from
dinner to tea-time sitting in writing, the pair of us, till I wonder it
haven't brought on a rush of blood to our poor heads."

"Writing?" echoed Fancy. She desisted from spreading the butter and
eyed Mrs Bowldler doubtfully, pursing up her lips. "I don't like the
look of that. What are they writing, do you suppose?"

"It don't become me to guess," answered Mrs Bowldler. "Belike they're
making their wills and leaving one another the whole of their property."

"I hope not. They'd make a dreadful mess of it without a lawyer to
help."

"They're making a dreadful mess on the tablecloth--or, as I _should_
say, on the tablecloths, respectively, as the case may be. Blots.
There's one or two you couldn't cover with a threepenny bit.
Captain Hunken especially; and it cost four-and-ninepence only last
July, which makes the heart bleed."

"They haven't quarrelled, have they?" asked Fancy.

"Quarrelled? No, of course they haven't quarrelled. What put such a
thing into your head, child?"

"I don't know. . . . But I don't like this writin'; it's unnatural.
And they're livin' apart, you say?"

"They didn't even breakfast together. But that was an accident, Captain
Hunken having walked out early and taken the parrot."

"Funny thing to take for a walk."

"Which," explained Mrs Bowldler with a glance at Palmerston, "I had to
lodge a complaint with Captain Hocken yesterday relative to its
conversation, and he must have spoken about it; for Captain Hunken went
out at eight o'clock taking the bird with him, cage and all, and when he
came back they were _minus_."

Fancy pondered. "What did the parrot say?" she asked.

"You