So at last
we made our selection; a Miss Wotton, who asked leave to
bring her sister with her. She was a hard-faced brusque-
mannered person, whose appearance in a bachelor's
household was not likely to cause a scandal. Her nose
was in itself a certificate of virtue. She was to bring
her furniture into the basement, and I was to give her
and her sister one of the two upper rooms for a bedroom.
They moved in a few days later. I was out at the
time, and the first intimation I had was finding
three little dogs in my hall when I returned. I had her
up, and explained that this was a breach of contract, and
that I had no thoughts of running a menagerie. She
pleaded very hard for her little dogs, which it seems are
a mother and two daughters of some rare breed; so I at
last gave in on the point. The other sister appeared to
lead a subterranean troglodytic sort of existence; for,
though I caught a glimpse of her whisking round the
corner at times, it was a good month before I could have
sworn to her in a police court.
For a time the arrangement worked well, and then
there came complications. One morning, coming down
earlier than usual, I saw a small bearded man undoing the
inside chain of my door. I captured him before he could
get it open. "Well," said I, "what's this?"
"If you please, sir," said he, "I'm Miss Wotton's
husband."
Dreadful doubts of my housekeeper flashed across my
mind, but I thought of her nose and was reassured.
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