To their first knock at the door there was no
response. A second met with the like result. But in answer to the third,
which was of a more vigorous kind, the parlour window-sash was gently
raised, and a musical voice cried:
'Haredale, my dear fellow, I am extremely glad to see you. How very much
you have improved in your appearance since our last meeting! I never saw
you looking better. HOW do you do?'
Mr Haredale turned his eyes towards the casement whence the voice
proceeded, though there was no need to do so, to recognise the speaker,
and Mr Chester waved his hand, and smiled a courteous welcome.
'The door will be opened immediately,' he said. 'There is nobody but
a very dilapidated female to perform such offices. You will excuse her
infirmities? If she were in a more elevated station of society, she
would be gouty. Being but a hewer of wood and drawer of water, she
is rheumatic. My dear Haredale, these are natural class distinctions,
depend upon it.'
Mr Haredale, whose face resumed its lowering and distrustful look the
moment he heard the voice, inclined his head stiffly, and turned his
back upon the speaker.
'Not opened yet,' said Mr Chester. 'Dear me! I hope the aged soul has
not caught her foot in some unlucky cobweb by the way.
Pages:
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356