dons, but to redeem a promise recently made to Bessie Byass, who declared herself vastly indignant at the neglect with which he treated her. So, instead of going up the steps to the front door, he descended into the area. Bessie herself opened to him, and after a shrewd glance, made as though she would close the door again. “Nothing for you! The idea of beggars coming down the area-steps! Be off!”
“I’m worse than a beggar,” replied Sidney. “Housebreaking’s more in my line.”
And he attempted to force an entrance. Bessie struggled, but had to give in, overcome with laughter. Samuel was enjoying a pipe in the front kitchen; in spite of the dignity of keeping a servant (to whom the back-kitchen was sacred), Mr. and Mrs. Byass frequently spent their evenings below stairs in the same manner as of old.
The talk began with Sidney’s immediate difficulties.
“Now if it had only happened half a year ago,” said Bessie, “I should have got you into our first-floor rooms.”
