Mrs. Frith’s departure was even more exciting than her stories. One afternoon Michael found her in the kitchen, dancing about with her skirts kilted above her knees. He was a little embarrassed at first, but very soon he had to laugh because she was evidently not behaving like this in order to show off, but because she enjoyed dancing about the kitchen. “Why are you dancing, Mrs. Frith?” he asked. “Happy as a lark, lovey,” she answered in an odd voice. “Happy as a lark, for we won’t go home till morning, we won’t go home till morning,” and singing, she twirled round and round until she sank into a wicker arm-chair. At this moment Annie came running downstairs with Nurse, and both of them glared at Mrs. Frith with shocked expressions. “What ever are you doing, Cook?” said Nurse. “That’s all right, lovey. That’s All Sir Garnet, and don’t you make no mistake. Don’t you—make no mistake.” Here Mrs. Frith gave a very loud hiccup and waved her arms and did not even say ‘beg pardon’ for the offensive noise. “Michael,” said Nurse, “go upstairs at once. Mrs. Frith, get up. You ignorant and vulgar woman. Get up.” “And you ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Cook to Nurse. “You old performing monkey, that’s what you are.” “Annie,” said Nurse, “fetch a policeman in, and go and get this woman’s box.” “Woman!” said Mrs. Frith. “Woman yourself. Who’s a woman? I’m not a woman. No, I’m not. And if I am a woman, you’re not the one to say so. Ah, I know how many bottles have gone out of this house and come in—not by me.” “Hold your impudent tongue,” said Nurse. “I shall not hold my tongue, so now,” retorted Mrs. Frith. Michael had squeezed himself behind the kitchen door fascinated by this duel. It was like Alice in Wonderland, and every minute he expected to see Cook throwing plates at Nanny, who was certainly making faces exactly like the Duchess. The area door slammed, and Michael wondered what was going to happen. Presently there came the sound of a deep tread in the passage and a policeman entered. “What’s all this?” he said in a deep voice. “Constable,” said Nurse, “will you please remove this dreadful woman?” “What’s she been doing?” asked the policeman. “She’s drunk.” Mrs. Frith apparently overwhelmed by the enormity of the accusation tottered to her feet and seized a saucepan. “None of that now,” said the policeman roughly, as he caught her by the waist. “Oh, I’m not afraid of a bluebottle,” said Mrs. Frith haughtily. “Not of a bluebottle, I’m not.” “Are you going to charge her?” the policeman asked. “No, no. Nothing but turn her out. The girl’s packing her box. Give her the box and let her go.” “Not without my wages,” said Mrs. Frith. “I’m not going to leave my wages behind. Certaintly I’m not.” Nurse fumbled in her purse, and at last produced some money. “That’s the easiest way,” said the policeman. “Pay her the month and let her go. Come on, my lady.”