“You’ll never do anything with my governor, if that’s your hope—­you should hear him and the mum talking!  ‘It’s all nonsense,’ he says; ’I’m not going to annoy my tenants, and make myself unpopular, just to gratify a fashionable cry.’  ‘Well,’ says mumsey, ’it is not what was thought the thing for ladies in my time; but you see, if Gussie goes along with it, she will have the key to all the best county society.’  ‘Bother the county society!’ says I.  ’Bessie Duncombe’s jolly enough—­but such a stuck-up set as they all are at Compton, I’ll not run after, behaving so ill to the governor, too!’ However—­”

“There’s a proverb about listeners!” said Rosamond, emerging when she felt as if she ought to hearken no longer, and finding Mrs. Duncombe leaning with her back to the counter, and a tall girl, a few degrees from beauty, in a riding-habit, sitting upon it.

They both laughed; and the girl added, “If you had waited a moment, Lady Rosamond, you would have heard that you were the only jolly one of all the b’iling!”

“Ah! we shall see where you are at the end of Mrs. Tallboys’ lectures!” said Mrs. Duncombe.

“On what?” asked Rosamond.  “Woman’s rights, or sanitary measures? for I can’t in the least understand why they should be coupled up together.”

“Nor I!” said Miss Moy.  “I don’t see why we shouldn’t have our own way, just as well as the men; but what that has to do with drains and gutters, I can’t guess.”

“I’m the other way,” said Rosamond.  “I think houses and streets ought to be made clean and healthy; but as for woman’s rule, I fancy we get more of it now than we should the other way.”

“As an instance,” said Mrs. Duncombe, “woman is set on cleansing Wil’sbro’.  Man will not stir.  Will it ever be done till woman has her way?”

“Perhaps, if woman would be patient, man would do it in the right way, instead of the wrong!” quoth Rosamond.

“Patient!  No, indeed!  Nothing is to be done by that!  Let every woman strive her utmost to get the work done as far as her powers go, and the crusade will be accomplished for very shame!”

Just then Tom, looking highly amused, emerged, followed by Mr. Pettitt, the only enlightened landlord on whom Mrs. Duncombe had been able to produce the slightest impression.  He had owned a few small tenements in Water Lane, which he was about to rebuild, and which were evidently the pivot of operations.

At the door they met Cecil, and Rosamond detained her a moment in the street to say, “My dear Cecil, is that Miss Moy coming on Wednesday?”

“Of course she is.  We greatly want to move her father.  He has the chief house property there.”

“It is too late now,” said Rosamond; “but do you think it can be pleasant to Jenny Bowater to meet her?”

“I know nothing of the old countrified animosities and gossipings, which you have so heartily adopted,” replied Cecil, proudly.  “Firstly, I ignore them as beneath me; secondly, I sacrifice them all to a great cause.  If Miss Bowater does not like my guests, let her stay away.”