and speak to her, but he resisted the inclination.

On the doorstep of the house where Hilda lodged, stood her landlady
giving a piece of her mind to a butcher-boy both as regarded his
master's meat and his personal qualities. She paused for breath just
as Hilda passed up the steps, and, turning, said something that made
the latter laugh. The butcher-boy took the opportunity of beating a
rapid retreat, leaving Mrs. Jacobs crowing after him from her own
doorstep. As soon as Hilda had gone into the house, George saw his
opportunity. Advancing politely towards Mrs. Jacobs, he asked her if
she was the landlady of the house, and, when she had answered in the
affirmative, he made inquiries about apartments.

"Thank you, sir," said Mrs. Jacobs, "but I do not let rooms to single
gentlemen."

"You take too much for granted, ma'am. I am married."

She looked at him doubtfully. "I suppose, sir, you would have no
objection to giving a reference."

"A dozen, if you like, ma'am; but shall we look at the rooms?"

Mrs. Jacobs assented, and they made their way upstairs, George keeping
in front. On the first-floor he saw a pair of lady's shoes on a mat
outside the door, and guessed to whom they belonged.

"Are these the rooms?" he said, laying his hand upon the door-handle.

"No, sir, no, they are Mrs. Roberts'; next floor, please, sir."