“ Mr. Fledgeby in his shower-bath, perhaps,” remarked the lady, smiling.

“And somebody’s beating a carpet, I think?”

“ Mr. Fledgeby’s carpet, I dare say,” replied the smiling lady.

Miss Wren had a reasonably good eye for smiles, being well accustomed to them on the part of her young friends, though their smiles mostly ran smaller than in nature. But she had never seen so singular a smile as that upon this lady’s face. It twitched her nostrils open in a remarkable manner, and contracted her lips and eyebrows. It was a smile of enjoyment too, though of such a fierce kind that Miss Wren thought she would rather not enjoy herself than do it in that way.

“Well!” said the lady, watching her. “What now?”