at's what I like, to sit in the
dark and listen."

"But you can't sit in the dark, you'll want to read, won't you?"

"Can't read, miss," said Jaggs cheerfully. "Can't write, either. I don't
know that I'm any worse off."

Reluctantly she switched out the light.

"But you won't be able to see your food."

"I can feel for that, miss," he said with a hoarse chuckle. "Don't you
worry about me. I'll just sit here and have a big think."

If she was uncomfortable before, she was really embarrassed now. The
very sight of the door behind which old Jaggs sat having his "big think"
was an irritation to her. She could not sleep for a long time that
night for thinking of him sitting in the darkness, and "listening" as
he put it, and had firmly resolved on ending a condition of affairs
which was particularly distasteful to her, when she fell asleep.

She woke when the maid brought her tea, to learn that Jaggs had gone.

The maid, too, had her views on the "old gentleman." She hadn't slept
all night for the thought of him, she said, though probably this was an
exaggeration.

The arrangement must end, thought Lydia, and she called at Jack Glover's
office that afternoon to tell him so. Jack listened without comment
until she had finished.

"I'm sorry he is worrying you, but you'll get used to him in time, and I
should be obliged if you kept him for a month. You would relieve me of a
lot of anxiety."

At first she was determined to have her way, but he was so persistent,
so pleading, that eventually she surrendered.

Lucy, the new maid, however, was not so easily convinced.

"I don't like it, miss," she said, "he's just like an old tramp, and I'm
sure we shall be murdered in our beds."

"How cheerful you are, Lucy," laughed Lydia. "Of course, there is no
danger from Mr. Jaggs, and he really was very useful to me."

The girl grumbled and assented a little sulkily, and Lydia had a
feeling that she was going to lose a good servant. In this she was not
mistaken.

Old Jaggs called at half-past nine that night, and was admitted by the
maid, who stalked in front of him and opened his door.

"There's your room," she snapped, "and I'd rather have your room than
your company."

"Would you, miss?" wheezed Jaggs, and Lydia, attracted by the sound of
voices, came to the door and listened with some amusement.

"Lord, bless me life, it ain't a bad room, either. Put the light out, my
dear, I don't like light. I like 'em dark, like