Mrs. Deeks's underclothing, would have been sufficiently ridiculous, if it were hot that their pale appealing faces, thinned as they were by hard usage and insufficient food, their utter helplessness in our hands, and an exaggerated sense of the intrusion of which they had been guilty, brought the pathetic side of their case so forcibly before us that even Mrs. Deeks's flannel petticoats were glorified by their association with it.
We sat down to supper; Maxwell doing the host in a pleasant, cheery, country gentleman sort of way, intended to convey the impression that we were not at all taken aback by the events of the evening, and that, in point of fact, this sort of thing happened to us three times a week, or so.
"I beg your pardon," said Maxwell, "may I venture to ask whom I am addressing?"
"Talboys, sir—Mrs. Talboys; and this is my daughter Emmie Talboys. I should have told you our names before, but in the excitement of the events that brought us into your chambers, I forgot to do so."
"Pray don't mention it. I am Maxwell, my friend here is Bailey—Bob Bailey; and now that we all know one another, I'll tell you, Mrs. Talboys, what we—that is, Bailey and I—propose to do. We propose to give up our chambers to you for the night—Mrs. Deeks will see to the necessary alterations—and to take up a temporary abode in an adjoining hostelry—at Sams', in fact. Now, Mrs. Talboys, have you, or has Miss Talboys, any objection to urge to this arrangement.
Mrs. Talboys was, of course, exceedingly and unnecessarily grateful to us for our hospitality, and as the
