The minister had already learnt that this particular rhythm in taps denoted the fingers of his enkindling landlady, and the doomed young fellow buried his first mouthful under a look of receptive blandness.
'We have a chicken in the house, Mr.Stockdale--I quite forgot to mention it just now.

Perhaps you would like Marther Sarer to bring it up ?' Stockdale had advanced far enough in the art of being a young man to say that he did not want the chicken, unless she brought it up herself; but when it was uttered he blushed at the daring gallantry of the speech, perhaps a shade too strong for a serious man and a minister.

In three minutes the chicken appeared, but, to his great surprise, only in the hands of Martha Sarah.

Stockdale was disappointed, which perhaps it was intended that he should be.
He had finished supper, and was not in the least anticipating Mrs.
Newberry again that night, when she tapped and entered as before.
Stockdale's gratified look told that she had lost nothing by not appearing when expected.

It happened that the cold in the head from which the young man suffered had increased with the approach of night, and before she had spoken he was seized with a violent fit of sneezing which he could not anyhow repress.
Mrs.Newberry looked full of pity.