‘Thank you, quite well.  And you, ma’am?’ returned Mr. Grewgious.

‘I am as well,’ said Mrs. Billickin, becoming aspirational with excess of faintness, ‘as I hever ham.’

‘My ward and an elderly lady,’ said Mr. Grewgious, ’wish to find a genteel lodging for a month or so.  Have you any apartments available, ma’am?’

‘Mr. Grewgious,’ returned Mrs. Billickin, ’I will not deceive you; far from it.  I have apartments available.’

This with the air of adding:  ’Convey me to the stake, if you will; but while I live, I will be candid.’

‘And now, what apartments, ma’am?’ asked Mr. Grewgious, cosily.  To tame a certain severity apparent on the part of Mrs. Billickin.

’There is this sitting-room—­which, call it what you will, it is the front parlour, Miss,’ said Mrs. Billickin, impressing Rosa into the conversation:  ’the back parlour being what I cling to and never part with; and there is two bedrooms at the top of the ’ouse with gas laid on.  I do not tell you that your bedroom floors is firm, for firm they are not.  The gas-fitter himself allowed, that to make a firm job, he must go right under your jistes, and it were not worth the outlay as a yearly tenant so to do.  The piping is carried above your jistes, and it is best that it should be made known to you.’

Mr. Grewgious and Rosa exchanged looks of some dismay, though they had not the least idea what latent horrors this carriage of the piping might involve.  Mrs. Billickin put her hand to her heart, as having eased it of a load.

‘Well!  The roof is all right, no doubt,’ said Mr. Grewgious, plucking up a little.

‘Mr. Grewgious,’ returned Mrs. Billickin, ’if I was to tell you, sir, that to have nothink above you is to have a floor above you, I should put a deception upon you which I will not do.  No, sir.  Your slates will rattle loose at that elewation in windy weather, do your utmost, best or worst!  I defy you, sir, be you what you may, to keep your slates tight, try how you can.’  Here Mrs. Billickin, having been warm with Mr. Grewgious, cooled a little, not to abuse the moral power she held over him.  ‘Consequent,’ proceeded Mrs. Billickin, more mildly, but still firmly in her incorruptible candour:  ’consequent it would be worse than of no use for me to trapse and travel up to the top of the ’ouse with you, and for you to say, “Mrs. Billickin, what stain do I notice in the ceiling, for a stain I do consider it?” and for me to answer, “I do not understand you, sir.”  No, sir, I will not be so underhand.  I do understand you before you pint it out.  It is the wet, sir.  It do come in, and it do not come in.  You may lay dry there half your lifetime; but the time will come, and it is best that you should know it, when a dripping sop would be no name for you.’

Mr. Grewgious looked much disgraced by being prefigured in this pickle.

‘Have you any other apartments, ma’am?’ he asked.