He might have quite dozed off had not a sudden noise from within aroused him--the unmistakable crash of falling crockery.

It made him laugh, a laugh of humorous expostulation.

A minute or two passed, then came a timid tap at his door, and Mrs.
Hopper showed her face.
"Another accident, sir, I'm sorry to say," were her faltering words.
"Extensive ?" "A dish and two plates, I'm sorry to say, sir." "Oh, that's nothing." "Of course I shall make them good, sir." "Pooh! Aren't there plates enough ?" "Oh, quite enough--just yet, sir." Warburton subdued a chuckle, and looked with friendly smile at his domestic, who stood squeezing herself between the edge of the door and the jamb--her habit when embarrassed.

Mrs.Hopper had served him for three years; he knew all her weaknesses, but thought more of her virtues, chief of which were honest intention and a moderate aptitude for plain cooking.

A glance about this room would have proved to any visitor that Mrs.Hopper's ideas of cleanliness were by no means rigid, her master had made himself to a certain extent responsible for this defect; he paid little attention to dust, provided that things were in their wonted order.