answer, the figure, passing the greasy cap into its other hand,
stooped down and, seizing the front of the long skirt, began to haul it
up.

"Don't do that!" said Mr. Peter Hope. "I say, you know, you--"

But by this time the skirt had practically disappeared, leaving to view a
pair of much-patched trousers, diving into the right-hand pocket of which
the dirty hand drew forth a folded paper, which, having opened and
smoothed out, it laid upon the desk.

Mr. Peter Hope pushed up his spectacles till they rested on his eyebrows,
and read aloud--"'Steak and Kidney Pie, 4d.; Do. (large size), _6d._;
Boiled Mutton--'"

"That's where I've been for the last two weeks," said the
figure,--"Hammond's Eating House!"

The listener noted with surprise that the voice--though it told him as
plainly as if he had risen and drawn aside the red rep curtains, that
outside in Gough Square the yellow fog lay like the ghost of a dead
sea--betrayed no Cockney accent, found no difficulty with its aitches.

"You ask for Emma. She'll say a good word for me. She told me so."

"But, my good--" Mr. Peter Hope, checking himself, sought again the
assistance of his glasses. The glasses being unable to decide the point,
their owner had to put the question bluntly:

"Are you a boy or a girl?"

"I dunno."

"You don't know!"

"What's the difference?"

Mr. Peter Hope stood up, and taking the strange figure by the shoulders,
turned it round slowly twice, apparently under the impression that the
process might afford to him some clue. But it did not.

"What is your name?"

"Tommy."

"Tommy what?"

"Anything you like. I dunno. I've had so many of 'em."

"What do you want? What have you come for?"

"You're Mr. Hope, ain't you, second floor, 16, Gough Square?"

"That is my name."

"You want somebody to do for you?"

"You mean a housekeeper!"

"Didn't say anything about housekeeper. Said you wanted somebody to do
for you--cook and clean the place up. Heard 'em talking about it in the
shop this afternoon. Old lady in green bonnet was asking Mother Hammond
if she knew of anyone."

"Mrs. Postwhistle--yes, I did ask her to look out for someone for me.
Why, do you know of anyone? Have you been sent by anybody?"

"You don't want anything too 'laborate in the way o' cooking? You was a
simple old chap, so they said; not much trouble."

"No--no. I don't want much--someone clean and respectable. But why
couldn't she come herse