“I’m not responsible for what yo’ do outside o’ this house; yo’ can be as great a fool as yo’ like,” she said. “As long as yo’ coom back sober, an’ not too late,” she added with emphasis. “Ten’s my hour for going to bed; I don’t say but what I met stretch a point now an’ then, an’ stop up till half-past ten, but folks as comes home later nor that ’ull find theirsel’s locked out.” “Eleven’s closin’ time,” said Luke, sulkily. “I suppose yo’ think yo’rsel’ better able to make laws nor the government.” “I makes laws for my own house,” responded Miss Whiteside with dignity. “I always kept my ’ouse respectable, an’ I’ll go on doin’ of it. No house can be respectable as takes a lodger out o’ they crowd o’ shoutin’, singin’ wastrels as nobbut cooms whoam when they’re turned out o’ the public. If one o’ my lodgers is sich a noddy as to go to the public at all he mun walk out o’ his own free will, an’ not wait to be turned out.” “Of his own free will, indeed!” commented Luke, with an angry laugh; “theer’s not mich free will left to ony chap as bides i’ this cote.” “Please yo’rself an’ yo’ please me,” said Jinny. “I don’t want to keep nobry here against their will, but if yo’ reckon to lodge here yo’ must do same as I tell yo’.” “I’ve more nor half a mind to tak’ yon wench at her word,” muttered Kershaw, as he strode away, accompanied by John, whom he had persuaded to join him for a single glass, though, as the latter explained, in a general way he was temperance. “Yo’ll do same as the rest on us—yo’ll give in. Eh, mon, yo’ll not rue it I tell yo’; I’ve been a dale ’appier an ’a dale better sin’ Miss Whiteside took me in hand. An’ Mary Frith, as I’m keepin’ coompany with, says often an’ often she blesses the day I went to lodge wi’ her.” They went into the “Blue Lion,” and John duly had his glass, and departed amid the mirth of the assembled company. One facetious person enquired, with apparent innocence, but nudging his neighbour the while, if Luke did not intend to accompany him. “We know the rules o’ the ’ouse,” he cried. “Miss Whiteside ’ull be on the lookout for ye, lad.” Luke’s only response was to order himself another three-penn’orth; but being further pressed, he announced with great valour his intention of showing yon wumman as she’d not get the better of him. Nevertheless, when ten o’clock drew near, he began to fidget. Would Jinny really carry out her threat of locking him out if he did not appear at the appointed time? It was raining heavily, someone had recently reported, he was tired, and the memory of the snug little room under the roof appealed to him forcibly; moreover he would infallibly become the laughing-stock of the place if Jinny was as good as her word. When another quarter of an hour had passed, therefore, he arose, stretched himself, and remarked with feigned unconcern, that he was dog tired and would be glad to turn in. The wag aforesaid pulled out a huge Waterbury watch.