not be brought to the point of promising to give him notice.

'Very well, Mrs. Turpin,' said Miss Rodney at length, 'either he leaves the
house or I do.'

Resolved, as she was, _not_ to quit her lodgings, this was a bold
declaration. A meeker spirit would have trembled at the possibility that
Mrs. Turpin might be only too glad to free herself from a subjection which,
again and again, had all but driven her to extremities. But Miss Rodney had
the soul of a conqueror; she saw only her will, and the straight way to it.

'To tell you the truth, miss,' said the landlady, sore perplexed, 'he's
rather backward with his rent--'

'Very foolish of you to have allowed him to get into your debt. The
probability is that he would never pay his arrears; they will only
increase, the longer he stays. But I have no more time to spare at present.
Please understand that by Saturday next it must be settled which of your
lodgers is to go.'

Mrs. Turpin had never been so worried. The more she thought of the
possibility of Miss Rodney's leaving the house, the less did she like it.
Notwithstanding Mr. Rawcliffe's 'family,' it was growing clear to her that,
as a stamp of respectability and a source of credit, the High School
mistress was worth more than the solicitor's clerk. Then there was the
astonishing change that had come over Turpin, owing, it seemed, to his talk
with Miss Rodney; the man spent all his leisure time in 'making shapes and
figuring'--just as he used to do when poor Harry was at the Grammar School.
If Miss Rodney disappeared, it seemed only too probable that Turpin would
be off again to 'The Swan With Two Necks.' On the other hand, the thought