seven o'clock
When we went downstairs we found a mug with `` A Present from Tunbridge Wells '' on it lighted up in the staircase window with a floating wick , and a young woman , with a swelled face bound up in a flannel bandage blowing the fire of the drawing-room -LRB- now connected by an open door with Mrs. Jellyby 's room -RRB- and choking dreadfully . It smoked to that degree , in short , that we all sat coughing and crying with the windows open for half an hour , during which Mrs. Jellyby , with the same sweetness of temper , directed letters about Africa . Her being so employed was , I must say , a great relief to me , for Richard told us that he had washed his hands in a pie-dish and that they had found the kettle on his dressing-table , and he made Ada laugh so that they made me laugh in the most ridiculous manner . Soon after seven o'clock we went down to dinner , carefully , by Mrs. Jellyby 's advice , for the stair-carpets , besides being very deficient in stair-wires , were so torn as to be absolute traps . We had a fine cod-fish , a piece of roast beef , a dish of cutlets , and a pudding ; an excellent dinner , if it had had any cooking to speak of , but it was almost raw . The young woman with the flannel bandage waited , and dropped everything on the table wherever it happened to go , and never moved it again until she put it on the stairs . The person I had seen in pattens , who I suppose to have been the cook , frequently came and skirmished with her at the door , and there appeared to be ill will between them .