. "I'm unjust, am I--"

An interruption occurred, and Mrs. Jones subsided into silence. The
back-door suddenly opened, not a couple of yards from that lady's head,
and in came Mrs. Gum in her ordinary indoor dress, two basins in her
hand. The sight of her visitor appeared to occasion her surprise; she
uttered a faint scream, and nearly dropped the basins.

"Lawk a mercy! Is it Lydia Jones?"

Mrs. Jones had been drawing a quiet deduction--the clerk had said his
wife was out only to deceive her. She rose from her chair, and faced him.

"I thought you told me she was gone out?"

The clerk coughed. He looked at his wife, as if asking an explanation.
The meeker of the two women hastily put her basins down, and stood
looking from one to the other, apparently recovering breath.

"Didn't you go out?" asked the clerk.

"I was going, Gum, but stepped out first to collect my basins, and then
the rain came down. I had to shelter under the wood-shed, it was
peppering so."

"Collect your basins!" interjected Mrs. Jones. "Where from?"

"I put them out with scraps for the cats."

"The cats must be well off in your quarter; better than some children in
others," was the rejoinder, delivered with an unnecessary amount of
spite. "What makes you so out of breath?" she tartly asked.

"I had a bit of a fright," said the woman, simply. "My breath seems to
get affected at nothing of late, Lydia."

"A pity but you'd your hands full of work, as mine are: that's the best
remedy for fright," said Mrs. Jones sarcastically. "What might your
fright have been, pray?"

"I was standing, waiting to dart over here, when I saw a man come across
the waste land and make for Pike's shed," said Mrs. Gum, looking at her
husband. "It gave me a turn. We've never seen a soul go near the place of
an evening since Pike has been there."

"Why should it give you a turn?" asked Mrs. Jones, who was in a mood
to contradict everything. "You've seen Pike often enough not to be
frightened at him when he keeps his distance."

"It wasn't Pike, Lydia. The man had an umbrella over him, and he looked
like a gentleman. Fancy Pike with an umbrella!"

"Was it Mr. Hillary?" interposed the clerk.

She shook her head. "I don't think so; but it was getting too dark to
see. Any way, it gave me a turn; and he's gone right up to Pike's shed."

"Gave you a turn, indeed!" scornfully repeated Mrs. Jones. "I think
you're getting more of an idiot every day, Nance. It's to b