Lord Spratte, giving Miss Railing a cup of tea, offered her the sugar. “Thanks,” she said. “No sugar; I think it’s weak.” “What, the tea?” cried the Canon. “I’m so sorry.” “No, to take sugar. I don’t approve of hydrocarbons.” “Rough on the hydrocarbons, ain’t it?” murmured Lord Spratte. The Canon with a smile addressed himself again to Mrs. Railing. “And how do you take your tea, dear lady?” “Oh, I don’t pay no attention to all this stuff of Louie’s and Bertie’s,” that good creature replied, a broad fat smile sending her red face into a pucker of little wrinkles. “Sometimes they just about give me the ’ump, I can tell you.” “Ma, do mind what you’re saying,” cried Miss Railing, much shocked at this manner of speaking. “Well, you do, Louie--that is Louise. She don’t like me to call her Louie. She says it’s so common. You know, my lord, my children was christened Bertram and Louise. But we’ve always called ’em Bertie and Louie, and I can’t get out of the ’abit of it now. But, lor’, when your children grow up and get on in the world they want to turn everything upside down. Now what do you think Bertie wants me to do?” “I can’t imagine,” said the Canon. “Well, would you believe it, he wants me to take the pledge.” “Ma!” cried Miss Railing, with whole volumes of reproach in her tone. “Well, look ’ere, my lord,” continued her mother, confidentially. “What I say is, I’m an ’ard-working woman, and what with the work I do, I want my little drop of beer now and then. The Captain--my ’usband, that is--’ad a little bit put by, but I ’ad to work to make both ends meet when I was left a widow, I can tell you. And I’ve given my children a thorough good education.” “You have reason to be proud of them,” replied the Canon, with conviction. “I don’t suppose my little girl has half the knowledge of Miss Louise.” “That’s your fault; that’s because you’ve not educated her properly,” cried Miss Railing, attacking him at once. “I hold with the higher education of women. But there’s no education in the West End. Now, if I had charge of your daughter for six months I could make a different woman of her.” “Ain’t she wonderful!” said Mrs. Railing. “I can listen to ’er talking for hours at a time.” “Except on the subject of teetotalism?” cried the Canon, rubbing his hands jovially. Mrs. Railing threw back her head and shook with laughter. “You’re right there, my lord. What I say is, I’m an ’ard-working woman.” “And you want your little drop of beer, I know, I know,” hastily interrupted the Canon. “I was discussing the matter the other day with the lady who does me the honour to clean out my church, and she expressed herself in the same manner; but she rather favoured spirits, I understand.” “Oh, I never take spirits,” said Mrs. Railing, shaking her head. “What, never?” cried the Canon, with immense gusto. “Well, ’ardly ever,” she answered, beaming. “Capital! Capital!”