‘I’m going to take that household in hand,’ she added.  ’The woman is foolish, but can be managed, I think, with a little patience.  I’m going to tackle the drunken husband as soon as I see my way.  And as for the highly connected gentleman whose candle I had the honour of lighting, I shall turn him out.’

‘You have your work set!’ exclaimed the friend, laughing.

’Oh, a little employment for my leisure!  This kind of thing relieves the monotony of a teacher’s life, and prevents one from growing old.’

Very systematically she pursued her purpose of getting Mrs. Turpin ’in hand.’  The two points at which she first aimed were the keeping clean of her room and the decent preparation of her meals.  Never losing temper, never seeming to notice the landlady’s sullen mood, always using a tone of legitimate authority, touched sometimes with humorous compassion, she exacted obedience to her directions, but was well aware that at any moment the burden of a new civilisation might prove too heavy for the Turpin family and cause revolt.  A week went by; it was again Saturday, and Miss Rodney devoted a part of the morning (there being no school to-day) to culinary instruction.  Mabel and Lily shared the lesson with their mother, but both young ladies wore an air of condescension, and grimaced at Miss Rodney behind her back.  Mrs. Turpin was obstinately mute.  The pride of ignorance stiffened her backbone and curled her lip.

Miss Rodney’s leisure generally had its task; though as a matter of principle she took daily exercise, her walking or cycling was always an opportunity for thinking something out, and this afternoon, as she sped on wheels some ten miles from Wattleborough, her mind was busy with the problem of Mrs. Turpin’s husband.  From her clerical friend of St. Luke’s she had learnt that Turpin was at bottom a decent sort of man, rather intelligent, and that it was only during the last year or two that he had taken to passing his evenings at the public-house.  Causes for this decline could be suggested.  The carpenter had lost his only son, a lad of whom he was very fond; the boy’s death quite broke him down at the time, and perhaps he had begun to drink as a way for forgetting his trouble.  Perhaps, too, his foolish, slatternly wife bore part of the blame, for his home had always been comfortless, and such companionship must, in the long-run, tell on a man.  Reflecting upon this, Miss Rodney had an idea, and she took no time in putting it into practice.  When Mabel brought in her tea, she asked the girl whether her father was at home.

‘I think he is, miss,’ was the distant reply—­for Mabel had been bidden by her mother to ‘show a proper spirit’ when Miss Rodney addressed her.

’You think so?  Will you please make sure, and, if you are right, ask Mr. Turpin to be so kind as to let me have a word with him.’