The discovery of her lodger's title made but little difference to Kitty, nor did it raise him a whit in her estimation.

At best, it only confirmed her first impression of his being a gentleman--every inch of him.

She may have studied the more closely her lodger's habits, noting his constant care of his person, the way in which he used his knife and fork, the softness and cleanliness of his hands--all object-lessons to her, for she broke out on her husband the day after her talk with the Englishman in the hansom cab with: "I want to tell ye that ye'll have to stop spatterin' yer soup around after this, John, dear.

I'm going to have a clean table-cloth on every day, and a clean napkin for him, and as I'm doin' the washing myself ye've got to help an' not muss things.

First thing ye know he'll sour on what we are giving him and be goin' off worse than ever, trampin' the streets till all hours of the night." At which John had stretched his big frame and with a prolonged yawn, his arms over his head, had remarked: "All right, Kitty, you're boss.