"It ain't nine yet, miss," answered Moggie in a tone of remonstrance.

"I know that--none of your cheek! If you come up here hollering at
people's doors, how can anyone sleep? Bring the hot water at once, and
mind it _is_ hot."

"You'll have to wait till it _gits_ 'ot, miss."

"_Shall_ I? If it wasn't too much trouble I'd come out and smack your
face for you, you dirty little wretch!"

The servant--she was about sixteen, and no dirtier than became her
position--scampered down the stairs, burst into the cellar kitchen, and
in a high, tearful wail complained to her mistress of the indignity she
had suffered. There was no living in the house with that Miss Sparkes,
who treated everybody like dirt under her feet. Smack her face, would
she? What next? And all because she said the water would have to be
'_otted_. And Mr. Gammon wanted his breakfast in bed, and--and--why,
there now, it had all been drove out of her mind by that Miss Sparkes.

Mrs. Bubb, the landlady, was frying some sausages for her first-floor
lodgers; as usual at this hour she wore (presumably over some invisible
clothing) a large shawl and a petticoat, her thin hair, black streaked
with grey, knotted and pinned into a ball on the top of her head. Here
and there about the kitchen ran four children, who were snatching a
sort of picnic breakfast whilst they made ready for school. They looked
healthy enough, and gabbled, laughed, sang, without heed to the elder
folk. Their mother, healthy too, and with no ill-natured face-a slow,
dull, sluggishly-mirthful woman of a common London type-heard Moggie
out, and shook up the sausages before replying.

"Never you mind Miss Sparkes; I'll give her a talkin' to when she comes
down. What was it as Mr. Gammon wanted? Breakfast in bed? And what
else? I never see such a girl for forgetting!"

"Well, didn't I tell you as my 'ead had never closed the top!" urged
Moggie in plaintive key. "How can I 'elp myself?"

"Here, take them letters up to him, and ask again; and if Miss Sparkes
says anything don't give her no answer--see? Billy, fill the big
kettle, and put it on before you go. Sally, you ain't a-goin' to school
without brushin' your 'air? Do see after your sister, Janey, an' don't
let her look such a slap-cabbage. Beetrice, stop that 'ollerin'; it
fair mismerizes me!"

Having silently thrust five letters under Mr. Gammon's door, Moggie
gave a very soft tap, and half whispered a request that the lodger
would r