"I don't 'appen to know where they've put nothink. Your dress clothes? Why, I dunno where they've bin and put our little parler where me and Maria 'ave set of a hevenin' all these years regular. I dunno where they've put the pantry, nor yet the bath-room, with 'ot and cold water laid on at my own expense. And you arsk me to find your hevenin' soot! I consider, sir, I consider that a unwall--that a most unwarrant-terrible liberty have bin took at my expense." "My good man, don't talk rubbish!" said Horace. "I'm talking to you about what _I know_, and I assert that an Englishman's 'ome is his cashle, and nobody's got the right when his backsh turned to go and make a 'Ummums of it. Not _nobody_ 'asn't!" "Make a _what_ of it?" cried Ventimore. "A 'Ummums--that's English, ain't it? A bloomin' Turkish baths! Who do you suppose is goin' to take apartments furnished in this 'ere ridic'loush style? What am I goin' to say to my landlord? It'll about ruing me, this will; and after you bein' a lodger 'ere for five year and more, and regarded by me and Maria in the light of one of the family. It's 'ard--it's damned 'ard!" "Now, look here," said Ventimore, sharply--for it was obvious that Mr. Rapkin's studies had been lightened by copious refreshment--"pull yourself together, man, and listen to me." "I respeckfully decline to pull myshelf togerrer f'r anybody livin'," said Mr. Rapkin, with a noble air. "I shtan' 'ere upon my dignity as a man, sir. I shay, I shtand 'ere upon----" Here he waved his hand, and sat down suddenly upon the marble floor. "You can stand on anything you like--or can," said Horace; "but hear what I've got to say. The--the people who made all these alterations went beyond my instructions. I never wanted the house interfered with like this. Still, if your landlord doesn't see that its value is immensely improved, he's a fool, that's all. Anyway, I'll take care _you_ shan't suffer. If I have to put everything back in its former state, I will, at my own expense. So don't bother any more about _that_." "You're a gen'l'man, Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, cautiously regaining his feet. "There's no mishtaking a gen'l'man. _I'm_ a gen'l'man." "Of course you are," said Horace genially, "and I'll tell you how you're going to show it. You're going straight downstairs to get your good wife to pour some cold water over your head; and then you will finish dressing, see what you can do to get a table of some sort and lay it for dinner, and be ready to announce my friends when they arrive, and wait afterwards. Do you see?"