I was awakened by the voice of O’Twist, informing me that it was half-past eight. I bade him in a stern voice, which I hoped would carry terror with it through the panels of the door, to bring me some hot water. But he had gone away. As I was in no temper to lie in bed, I jumped up, meaning to shave in cold water, then to hasten down-stairs, give Theresa (if she were up), a piece of my mind, wait until my uncle left his room, that I might acquaint him with the gross treatment to which I had been subjected by his servant, and then quit the house. But when I looked for my razor, it was gone! I was thunder-struck. I perfectly remembered leaving it on the toilet-table after unpacking my travelling bag, and I was equally sure it was in the same place when O’Twist first entered the room, for I recalled a cold shudder that had passed through me on reflecting what might happen should the maniac’s eye fasten upon the cold steel. Had he taken it? No doubt he had, and in all human probability with the intention of using it against me. What miraculous interposition of Providence had saved my throat? CHAPTER VI. _Spark._ “Very droll and extravagantly comic, I must confess; ha, ha, ha!” _The Country Girl._ I made haste to dress, not caring a fig that Theresa should see my beard--which to tell the truth, owing to my being fair, was scarcely perceptible--and went down-stairs, keeping a sharp lookout for O’Twist, from whom I might have I knew not what to dread. The drawing-room door was open, and on entering, I found Theresa arranging some freshly-picked flowers in a vase. She instantly dropped her work on seeing me, and exclaimed very petulantly, “I wish people would knock when they come into a room.” “I’ll knock when I wear a livery,” I replied, “not before.” “Do you sometimes wear a livery?” she inquired. “Miss Hargrave,” I exclaimed sternly, “I beg that you will cease your badinage. During the short time I have been in your house, I have had to submit to very bad treatment. It is absurd to pretend that the behaviour you show to me is the behaviour you show to others. My conviction is that you have falsified your character only that you may drive me back to Updown. You have attained your end. I leave you to-day; but I shall take care,” I added, feeling myself grow red in the face, “before I go, to acquaint your father with the singular rudeness you have been pleased to treat his guest with. Did I imagine that you had the faintest perception of your duty as a hostess, I might be tempted to complain to you of the insolence I have met with from that scoundrel footman of yours, O’Twist. But he has no doubt been licensed by _your_ behaviour, and thinks himself perfectly privileged to enter my room at night, take unwarrantable liberties with the window, and steal my razor.”