Well, we'll see what can be done for you, Polly,
though I fear me I'm going to have a sad pickle on my hands."
"Oh, pray don't say that, Mr. Spiller. What's happened was not my
doing."
"Of course not. But let us to Little Queen Street. If Mrs. Egleton is in
the mood she may be of use to you. But take care not to ruffle her
plumes. You've heard of her I doubt not?"
"Oh, yes. I saw her once at Drury Lane. She sings does she not, sir?"
"Aye, so mind and not outsing her."
They walked along the western side of the Fields to Little Queen Street,
where the houses were substantial enough, though not nearly so imposing
as those in Great Queen Street where many noblemen and rich people
lived.
Spiller was well known to the proprietor of the house, where Mrs.
Egleton lodged and was received with effusion. Mrs. Egleton was not up,
as indeed Spiller expected, nor would she be until past mid-day. But
this did not matter. The landlady had a front attic vacant which she was
willing to let to anyone recommended by Mr. Spiller for a very small
sum, and here Lavinia installed herself.
"Have a rest, Polly, and something to eat," said Spiller. "I shall call
for you about eleven o'clock. I want you to look your best. We're going
to see Mr. Rich. Heaven give us luck that we may find him in good
humour."
"Do you mean this morning?" cried Lavinia, in dismay.
"Well, I don't mean this evening.
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