When in the house she locked herself in her bedroom, reading the
kind of print that interested her, or lying in sullen idleness on
the bed. Numerous as were her acquaintances elsewhere, they did not
compensate her for the loss of domestic habit, As the week drew on
she bethought herself that she must look for new lodgings. In giving
notice to Mrs. Bubb she had not believed for a moment that it would
come to this she felt, sure that her old friend would make up the
quarrel and persuade her to stay. Nothing of the kind; for once she
was taken most literally at her word. There were moments when Polly
felt disposed to cry.
It vexed her much more than she would have thought to miss the
jocose greetings of her neigh hour Mr. Gammon. As usual he sang in
his bedroom of a morning, as usual be shouted orders and questions
to Moggie, but for her he had never a word. She listened for him as
he came out of the room, and once so far humbled herself as to
affect a cough in his bearing. Mr. Gammon paid no attention.
Then she raged at him--of course, _satto voce_.
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