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Updated: June 12, 2025
She passed away while she was drawing George Hatchard's supper beer, and he lost ten gallons o' the best bitter ale and his 'ousekeeper at the same time. It was four months arter that afore Alf came 'ome, and the fust sight of the new 'ousekeeper, wot opened the door to 'im, upset 'im terrible. She was the right side o' sixty to begin with, and only ordinary plain.
He sat there fidgeting with 'is feet until the 'ousekeeper looked at them and then 'e got up and walked upstairs. His uncle, wot was sitting on his bed when 'e went into the room and pretended that he 'adn't heard 'im come in, shook hands with 'im as though he'd never leave off.
"I've got something to tell you, Alf," he ses, arter they 'ad said "How d'ye do?" and he 'ad talked about the weather until Alf was fair tired of it. "I've been and gone and done a foolish thing, and 'ow you'll take it I don't know." "Been and asked the new 'ousekeeper to marry you, I s'pose?" ses Alf, looking at 'im very hard. His uncle shook his 'ead.
"I've got something to tell you, Alf," he ses, arter they 'ad said "How d'ye do?" and he 'ad talked about the weather until Alf was fair tired of it. "I've been and gone and done a foolish thing, and 'ow you'll take it I don't know." "Been and asked the new 'ousekeeper to marry you, I s'pose?" ses Alf, looking at 'im very hard. His uncle shook his 'ead.
Then she was as clean as a new pin, and dressed up as though she was going out to tea. "Oh, you're Alfred, I s'pose?" she ses, looking at 'im. "Mr. Simms is my name," ses young Alf, starting and drawing hisself up. "I know you by your portrait," ses the 'ousekeeper. "Come in. 'Ave you 'ad a pleasant v'y'ge? Wipe your boots." Alfred wiped 'is boots afore he thought of wot he was doing.
'I just tells my 'ousekeeper at the Halbany as I'm goin' on the Continong; and my mates 'ere thinks I'm a traveller. "'Nobody misses me much, he added, pathetically; 'I hain't a partic'larly fetchin' sort o' bloke, either of me. I'm sich an out-and- outer. When I'm an 'Arry, I'm too much of an 'Arry, and when I'm a prig, I'm a reg'lar fust prize prig.
For the next day or two George Hatchard was in such a state of nervousness and excitement that Alf was afraid that the 'ousekeeper would notice it. On Tuesday morning he was trembling so much that she said he'd got a chill, and she told 'im to go to bed and she'd make 'im a nice hot mustard poultice.
"Have they shut the Grange up, or is there still some one living there?" "Well, they got rid of most of the servants. I believe there's still a 'ousekeeper there and a maid, as well as a gardener. I remember when Mr. Grell first took over the place, Bill Ellis 'e's the blacksmith ses to me " He entered into lengthy reminiscence, to which Foyle only paid casual heed.
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