Mrs. Beezlewitz sat back in her chair and gazed with satisfaction at her nine boarders who were devouring the Sunday evening meal with gusto. Men did love a good pot roast!
She only accepted male boarders (and very carefully screened they were), as in HER opinion, having both genders together under the same roof was just asking for trouble!
As dessert was served and a few gentlemen left the table to play cards or sit by the fire (and of course, Mr. Murphy would soon plunk out a gentle tune on the old piano), Mrs. Beezlewitz drifted about the room eavesdropping and receiving compliments on her cooking.
Ah, there was the elegant Mr. Drake, always so well-dressed and neat as a pin. With manners to die for. An upstanding gentleman of high morals and conservative principals, she was sure.
It wasn't far from her mind that she wouldn't object to exchanging the last name of Beezlewitz for that of Drake.
It appeared he was taking the newest boarder under his wing, a youngish man, perhaps more modern than his landlady approved of, but an empty room was a room that needed to be rented!
Since Mr. Drake was one of her favorites, the gray-haired matron casually slunk about the area, adjusting doilies and rearranging the tassles on the orange flowered throw pillows, until she could listen to (and naturally join in) the conversation at the first opportunity.
She felt a little miffed that they didn't seem to notice her, so intent were they on their discussion.
Mr. Drake was smiling, his eyes lit from within, saying, "Ah yes, the guilty yet exquisite intoxication of discipline. It appears I still have much to learn."
(What on earth did he mean?)
She crinkled her brow and pursed her lips. As she listened to the younger man's uninhibited reply, her jaw hung open. Then she began to screech with a complete loss of dignity.
(The tassles on the pillows were to become sadly disarranged.)
