“Quite alone, Sir!” “Very good! Don’t disturb yourself, Mrs. Battleby. I will find my way up to his rooms.” And so saying, he passed her and ran lightly up the stairs. “Anyways I must go,” observed the landlady, as he disappeared, “for that gal of mine is so stupid I can’t trust her to do a single thing alone. I don’t know what my old friend Mary Stubbs was thinking of to arsk me to take her. She’s no more good than the fifth wheel of a coach! I believe she’s got a maggot in her brain. I found her making the kitchen table hop round the room yesterday, and when I told her not to be fooling like a child of five year old, she said she hadn’t touched it. If I hadn’t been a fool myself, I shouldn’t never have consented to try a gal, as had never been to service before, and come fresh from the country, like a turnip out of a field. But her mother and me, we was brought up together, and she wanted to get Hannah into service away from Settlefield where they live--something to do with a lad as she wanted to marry, I believe--and I gave in. But she’s likely to prove a plague to me, for she’s always crying after her lad, and if I do hate one thing before another, it is a love-sick gal. You might as well have a basin of gruel to help you in the ’ouse!” “She’ll soon forget ’im in London,” said Mrs. Blamey consolingly, “there are plenty of lads about! She’ll ’ave another in a fortnight!” “I dessay,” returned Mrs. Battleby, “but meanwhile she’ll do more damage than she’s worth. She broke half a dozen bits of crockery this week, a rattling them about, and when I tell ’er to keep ’em quiet, she cries and says she can’t ’elp it! Well, good evening, Mrs. Blamey! P’r’aps the Sig-nor will be wanting a little something extry for his supper, now that the Doctor’s come to spend the evening with him.” And the neighbours parted until the next idle moment should arrive, in which they could relieve their minds by chattering like two magpies to each other. Meanwhile Doctor Steinberg had run lightly up the staircase until he had reached the third story and tapped at his friend’s door. The Signor gave the permission to enter, and his thin face lighted up with pleasure as he caught sight of Steinberg. “Ah! the dear young man!” he exclaimed, in English, which was quite intelligible, though rather broken, “and have you come to cheer my solitude? That is very good! Now I shall have a pleasant evening! I want it, my good friend, for I have had a most fatiguing day.” “I can see that you are weary,” said the young doctor, as he grasped his hand, “and more than that, Signor, you are weak. I am afraid that amidst your multifarious duties to others, you forget your duty to yourself! Your pulse is very feeble. You have neither eaten nor drunk enough to-day. I hope you have prepared a hearty supper for yourself!”