'You haven't had time yet, Mrs. Turpin, to clean the rooms?'

The landlady stammered a half-indignant surprise. Why, she and her
daughters had given the room a thorough turn out. It was done only
yesterday, and _hours_ had been devoted to it.

'I see,' interrupted Miss Rodney, with quiet decision, 'that our notions of
cleanliness differ considerably. I'm going out now, and I shall not be back
till six o'clock. You will please to _clean_ the bedroom before then. The
sitting-room shall be done on Monday.'

And therewith Miss Rodney left the house.

On her return she found the bedroom relatively clean, and, knowing that too
much must not be expected at once, she made no comment. That night, as she
sat reading at eleven o'clock, a strange sound arose in the back part of
the house; it was a man's voice, hilariously mirthful and breaking into
rude song. After listening for a few minutes, Miss Rodney rang her bell,
and the landlady appeared.

'Whose Voice is that I hear?'

'Voice, miss?'

'Who is shouting and singing?' asked Miss Rodney, in a disinterested tone.

'I'm sorry if it disturbs you, miss. You'll hear no more.'

'Mrs. Turpin, I asked who it was.'