insisted upon certain minute peculiarities, and to forget one of them
was to earn that gaze of awful reprimand which Mr. Jordan found (or
thought) more efficacious than any spoken word. Against this precision
might be set his strange indulgence in the matter of bills; he merely
regarded the total, was never known to dispute an item. Only twice in
his long experience had he quitted a lodging because of exorbitant
charges, and on these occasions he sternly refused to discuss the
matter. 'Mrs. Hawker, I am paying your account with the addition of one
week's rent. Your rooms will be vacant at eleven o'clock tomorrow
morning.' And until the hour of departure no entreaty, no prostration,
could induce him to utter a syllable.

It was on the 1st of June, 1889, his forty-fifth birthday, that Mr.
Jordan removed from quarters he had occupied for ten months, and became
a lodger in the house of Mrs. Elderfield.

Mrs. Elderfield, a widow, aged three-and-thirty, with one little girl,
was but a casual resident in Islington; she knew nothing of Mr. Jordan,
and made no inquiries about him. Strongly impressed, as every woman must
needs be, by his air and tone of mild authority, she congratulated
herself on the arrival of such an inmate; but no subservience appeared
in her demeanour; she behaved with studious civility, nothing more. Her
words were few and well chosen. Always neatly dressed, yet always busy,
she moved about the house with quick, silent step, and cleanliness
marked her path. The meals were well cooked, well served. Mr. Jordan
being her only lodger, she could devote to him an undivided attention.
At the end of his first week the critical gentleman felt greater
satisfaction than he had ever known.

The bill lay upon his table at breakfast-time. He perused the items,