Meantime, the cook made haste and told the baker Pearman had “got it hot” from the housemaid, and she had called him a tea-kettle groom; and in less than half an hour after that it was in every stable in the mews. Why, as Pearman was taking the horse out of the brougham, didn't two little red-headed urchins call out, “Here, come and see the tea-kettle groom!” and at night some mischievous boy chalked on the black door of the stable a large white tea-kettle, and next morning a drunken, idle fellow, with a clay pipe in his mouth, and a dirty pair of corduroy trousers, no coat, but a shirt very open at the chest, showing inflamed skin, the effect of drink, inspected that work of art with blinking eyes and vacillating toes, and said, “This comes of a chap doing too much. A few more like you, and work would be scarce. A fine thing for gentlefolks to make one man fill two places! but it ain't the gentlefolks' fault, it's the man as humors 'em.” Pearman was a peaceable man, and made no reply, but went on with his work; only during the day he told his master that he should be obliged to him if he would fill his situation as soon as convenient. The master inquired the cause, and the man told him, and said the mews was too hot for him. The doctor offered him five pounds a year more, knowing he had a treasure; but Pearman said, with sadness and firmness, that he had made up his mind to go, and go he would. The doctor's heart fairly sank at the prospect of losing the one creature he could depend upon. Next Sunday evening Clara was out, and fell in with friends, to whom she exaggerated her grievance. Then they worked her up to fury, after the manner of servants' FRIENDS. She came home, packed her box, brought it down, and then flounced into the room to Doctor and Mrs. Staines, and said, “I shan't sleep another night in this house.” Rosa was about to speak, but Dr. Staines forbade her: he said, “You had better think twice of that. You are a good servant, though for once you have been betrayed into speaking disrespectfully. Why forfeit your character, and three weeks' wages?” “I don't care for my wages. I won't stay in such a house as this.” “Come, you must not be impertinent.” “I don't mean to, sir,” said she, lowering her voice suddenly; then, raising it as suddenly, “There are my keys, ma'am, and you can search my box.” “Mrs. Staines will not search your box; and you will retire at once to your own part of the house.” “I'll go farther than that,” said she, and soon after the street door was slammed; the Bijou shook. At six o'clock next morning, she came for her box. It had been put away for safety. Pearman told her she must wait till the doctor came down. She did not wait, but went at eleven A.M. to a police-magistrate, and took out a summons against Dr. Staines, for detaining a box containing certain articles specified--value under fifteen pounds.