'Mrs. Elderfield--' He paused, and looked gravely at the widow. She had a plain, honest, healthy face, with resolute lips, and an eye that brightened when she spoke; her well-knit figure, motionless in its respectful attitude, declared a thoroughly sound condition of the nerves. 'Mrs. Elderfield, your bill is so very moderate that I think you must have forgotten something.' 'Have you looked it over, sir?' 'I never trouble with the details. Please examine it.' 'There is no need, sir. I never make a mistake.' 'I said, Mrs. Elderfield, please _examine_ it.' She seemed to hesitate, but obeyed. 'The bill is quite correct, sir.' 'Thank you.' He paid it at once and said no more. The weeks went on. To Mr. Jordan's surprise, his landlady's zeal and efficiency showed no diminution, a thing unprecedented in his long and varied experience. After the first day or two he had found nothing to correct; every smallest instruction was faithfully carried out. Moreover, he knew for the first time in his life the comfort of absolutely clean rooms. The best of his landladies hitherto had not risen above that conception of cleanliness which is relative to London soot and fog. His palate, too, was receiving an education. Probably he had never eaten of a joint rightly cooked, or tasted a potato boiled as it should be; more often than not, the food set before him had undergone a process which left it masticable indeed, but void of savour and nourishment. Many little attentions of which he had never dreamed kept him in a wondering cheerfulness. And at length he said to himself: 'Here I shall stay.'