She actually had the impertinence to look indignant.  ’It’s shame I cry on you, miss, for tryin’ to break the pore man’s ’eart.  Then I s’pose I can’t give ‘im that there fotograft of you?’

‘My photograph!  Of all the unspeakable——­’

’It was with ‘im sayin’ that if ’e only ’ad it to look at it might ’elp to parss all the dark ’ours ’e ’as to spend away from you.  ’E sed ’e wanted it to look at wen ‘e was lyin’ awake at night, thinkin’ of you.’

I strove to be reasonable.  ’To let him have my photo, Elizabeth, would only encourage his mad ideas.  No, all this must be stopped immediately.  I shall take prompt measures.  Once more, let me beg of you never to mention this painful occurrence to any one.’  I turned to go out of the kitchen, but when I reached the door Elizabeth called to me.  ‘I wanted to ask you a favour, miss, if it isn’t troublin’ you too much,’ she began.

‘What is it?’ I inquired rather absently, for my mind was very much disturbed just then.

’You see, miss, it’s this way.  I gotta young man wot’s very poetick, like.  ‘E’s always sendin’ me portry copied from mottoes out o’ crackers.  It’s very ’ard to keep up with ‘im.’

‘Then how do you want me to help you?’ I asked, puzzled.

‘I wondered if you’d be so kind as to copy me a bit o’ portry I sor in one o’ master’s books.  It sounds real pretty, but I can’t get it down right.  My ‘andwritin’ is that bad.’  She took a leather-bound volume of Byron from the kitchen drawer.  ’It’s just this yere bit:—­

  “Yet, oh, yet thyself deceeve not,
  Luv’ may sink by slow decay;
  But by suddint wrench beleeve not
  ‘Earts can thus be torn away."’

‘Have you had a quarrel with your young man?’ I asked, perplexed at the strange selection of verse.

’No, miss, but ’e’s ‘overin’ just now—­you know what I mean.  I want to bring ‘im up to the scratch, like.’

I could not help thinking what blunt direct methods the lower classes employ in affairs of the heart.  In our walk in life the sending of such lines to a gentleman who had not declared himself would be considered almost indelicate.  However, I wrote out the absurd lines for the girl without comment, and rescued Henry’s volume of Byron, which I felt would not improve in appearance by contact with the meat chopper, knife-board and other miscellaneous objects which she keeps in the kitchen drawer.  It is a pity Netta does not exercise stricter supervision over Elizabeth.  The girl seems to do what she likes.

’You had better ask permission from Mrs. Warrington before taking books into the kitchen,’ I said with gentle reproof.  ’They might get lost or soiled.’

‘Right-o!’ said Elizabeth.  ‘An’ do you reely mean that you’re not a-goin’ to give your fotograft to Mr. Roarings?’

‘Indeed not,’ I said vehemently, ’don’t dare to suggest the idea to me again.  If Mr. Rawlings ever speaks of it to you, you can tell him how amazed and indignant I was.’