here'll be a nip in the wind as'll fairly freeze you. A good
time o' year to get out your furs, and I'm sure I 'ope as 'ow the
moths 'aven't gone and got at 'em. Horfly nasty things them moths.
They sye as everything in the world 'as a use; but I'm sure I don't
see what use there is for moths, eatin' 'oles in the seats of
gentlemen's trousers, no matter what you do to keep the coat-closet
aired--and everything like that. What do you sye, Mrs. Allerton?"

Letty was relieved of the necessity of answering by the entrance of
William with the tray, after which her task became easier. Used to
making "a good cup of tea" in an ordinary way, the doing it with this
formal ceremoniousness was only a matter of revision. As if it was
yesterday she recalled the instructions given to Luciline Lynch,
"Lemon?--cream?--one lump?--two lumps?" so that Miss Walbrook was
startled by her readiness. She, Miss Walbrook, was betrayed, in fact,
into some confusion of personality, stating that she would have cream
and no sugar, and that furthermore Englishmen like herself 'ardly ever
took lemon in their tea, and in her opinion no one ever did to whom
the tea-drinking 'abit was 'abitual.

"It's a question of tyste," Miss Walbrook continued, sipping with a
soft siffling noise in the way he considered to be ladylike. "Them
that 'as drunk tea with their mother's milk, as you might sye, 'll
tyke cream and sugar, one or both; but them that 'as picked up the
'abit in lyter life 'll often condescend to lemon."

What the rehearsal did for Letty was to make the mechanical task
familiar, while she concentrated her attention on Miss Walbrook.

It has to be admitted that to Barbara Walbrook Letty was a shock.
Having worked for two years in the Bleary Street Settlement she had
her preconceived ideas of what she was to find, and she found
something so different that her first consciousness was that of being
"sold."

Steptoe had received her at the door, and having ushered her into the
drawing-room announced, "Miss Barbara Walbrook," as if she had been
calling on a duchess. From the semi-obscurity of the back drawing-room
a small lithe figure came forward a step or two. The small lithe
figure was wearing a tea-gown of which so practiced an eye as Miss
Walbrook's could not but estimate the provenance and value, while a
sweet voice said:

"I'm so glad to be at home, Miss Walbrook. Do let me ring for tea."

Before a protest could be voiced the bell had been