rascible
tendency. Monstrously overdressed, and weighted with costly gewgaws,
she came forward panting and perspiring, and, before paying any heed
to her hostess, closely surveyed the room.

'Mrs. Mumford,' said the girl, 'this is my mother. Mother, this is
Mrs. Mumford. And now, please, let me go somewhere while you have
your talk.'

'Yes, that'll be best, that'll be best,' exclaimed Mrs. Higgins.
'Dear, 'ow 'ot it is! Run out into the garden, Louise. Nice little
'ouse, Mrs. Mumford. And Louise seems quite taken with you. She
doesn't take to people very easy, either. Of course, you can give
satisfactory references? I like to do things in a business-like way.
I understand your 'usband is in the City; shouldn't wonder if he
knows some of Mr. 'Iggins's friends. Yes, I will take a cup, if you
please. I've just had one at the station, but it's such thirsty
weather. And what do you think of Louise? Because I'd very much
rather you said plainly if you don't think you could get on.'

'But, indeed, I fancy we could, Mrs. Higgins.'

'Well, I'm sure I'm very glad _of_ it. It isn't everybody can get on
with Louise. I dessay she's told you a good deal about me and her
stepfather. I don't think she's any reason to complain of the
treatment--'

'She said you were both very kind to her,' interposed the hostess.

'I'm sure we _try_ to be, and Mr. 'Iggins, he doesn't mind what he
gives her. A five-pound note, if you'll believe me, is no more than
a sixpence to him when he gives her presents. You see, Mrs.
Rumford--no, Mumford, isn't it?--I was first married very
young--scarcely eighteen, I was; and Mr. Derrick died on our
wedding-day, two years after. Then came Mr. 'Iggins. Of course I
waited a proper time. And one thing I can say, that no woman was
ever 'appier with two 'usbands than I've been. I've two sons growing
up, hearty boys as ever you saw. If it wasn't for this trouble with
Louise--' She stopped to wipe her face. 'I dessay she's told you
that Mr. 'Iggins, who was a widower when I met him, has a daughter
of his first marriage--her poor mother died at the birth, and she's
older than Louise. I don't mind telling _you_, Mrs. Mumford, she's
close upon six-and-twenty, and nothing like so good-looking as
Louise, neither. Mr. 'Iggins, he's kindness itself; but when it
comes to differences between his daughter and _my_ daughter, well,
it isn't in nature he shouldn't favour his own. There's more be'ind,
but I dessay you can gue