Mrs Hudson And The Messenger
It is a matter of some small pride to me that, in all the years I lived under her roof, Mrs. Hudson never once lost either her temper or her dignity, both of which her tenant would, upon occasion, have tried in a saint. She had, however, methods of indicating that she had been provoked, and upon the morning of the fourth letter these methods were on full display. She brought up the breakfast with a set of her shoulders that I had seen perhaps twice before in our long association, and placed the tray upon the table with a precision that was almost accusatory.
"Mr. Holmes," she said, "there has been a boy."
Holmes was already on his feet. "At what hour?"
"Half past six. I had not yet risen. Mary heard the area bell, and coming up from the scullery saw a boy at the railings. He had, he said, an envelope for the upstairs, and he would not give it into any hand but mine. Mary fetched me down. I went to him in my morning wrapper, which I should not ordinarily do, but there was something in the child's bearing. Mr. Holmes, he bowed to me."
"Bowed, Mrs. Hudson?"
"Like a little gentleman. He took off his cap. He said, 'Good morning, ma'am. My instructions is to hand this to Mrs. Hudson in person, and no other. I am not to come in, and I am not to answer any questions, but I may say good morning, which I do.' And then he gave me the envelope, put his cap back on, and walked away up