"Oh! I have no doubt we shall understand each other, mam," cried Lady Ann Newcome, for it was no other than that noble person, with her children, who had invaded the precincts of Miss Honeyman's home. "Dr. Goodenough has given me a most satisfactory account of you--more satisfactory, perhaps, than you are aware of. Breakfast and tea, if you please, will be served in the same manner as dinner, and you will have the kindness to order fresh milk every morning for my little boy--ass's milk. Dr. Goodenough has ordered ass's milk. Anything further I want I will communicate through the man who first spoke to you--and that will do." A heavy shower of rain was descending at this moment, and little Miss Honeyman, looking at her lodger, who had sat down and taken up her book, said, "Have your ladyship's servants unpacked your trunks?" "What on earth, madam, have you--has that to do with the question?" "They will be put to the trouble of packing again, I fear. I cannot provide--three times five are fifteen--fifteen separate meals for seven persons--besides those of my own family. If your servants cannot eat with mine, or in my kitchen, they and their mistress must go elsewhere. And the sooner the better, madam, the sooner the better!" says Miss Honeyman, trembling with indignation, and sitting down in a chair, spreading her silks. "Do you know who I am?" asks Lady Ann, rising. "Perfectly well, madam," says the other, "And had I known, you should never have come into my house, that's more." "Madam!" cries the lady, on which the poor little invalid, scared and nervous, and hungry for his dinner, began to cry from his sofa. "It will be a pity that the dear little boy should be disturbed. Dear little child, I have often heard of him, and of you, miss," says the little householder, rising. "I will get you some dinner, my dear, for Clive's sake. And meanwhile your ladyship will have the kindness to seek for some other apartments--for not a bit shall my fire cook for any one else of your company." And with this the indignant little landlady sailed out of the room. "Gracious goodness! Who is the woman?" cries Lady Ann. "I never was so insulted in my life." "Oh, mamma, it was you began!" says downright Ethel. "That is--Hush, Alfred dear,--Hush my darling!" "Oh, it was mamma began! I'm so hungry! I'm so hungry!" howled the little man on the sofa, or off it rather, for he was now down on the ground kicking away the shawls which enveloped him.