g what an intolerable work Alfred was making
on purpose. If he had tried to bear it as well as possible, his brother
would have been much more likely to be sorry.

Alfred was thinking too much about his misfortunes and discomforts to
attend to the evening reading, but it soothed him a little, and the pain
was somewhat less, so he did fall asleep, so uneasily though, that Mrs.
King put off going to bed as late as she could.

It was nearly eleven, and Ellen had been in bed a long time, when Alfred
started, and Mrs. King turned her head, at the click of the wicket gate,
and a step plashing on the walk. She opened the little window, and the
gust of wet wind puffed the curtains, whistled round the room, and almost
blew out the candle.

'Who's there?

'It's me, Mrs. King! I've got the stuff,' called a hoarse tired voice.

'Well, if ever! It's Paul Blackthorn!' exclaimed Mrs. King. 'Thank ye
kindly. I'll come and let you in.'

'Paul Blackthorn!' cried Alfred. 'Been all the way to Elbury for me! O
Mother, bring him up, and let me thank him! But how ever did he know?'
The tears came running down Alfred's cheeks at such kindness from a
stranger. Mrs. King had hurried down-stairs, and at the threshold stood
a watery figure, holding out the gallipot.

'Oh! thank you, thank you; but come in! Yes, come in! you must have
something hot, and get dried.'

Paul shambled in very foot-sore. He looked as if he were made of moist
mud, and might be squeezed into any shape, and streams of rain were
dropping from each of his many rags.

'Well, I don't know how to thank you--such a night! But he'll sleep easy
now. How did you come to think of it?'

'I was just coming home from the parson's, and I met Harold putting up
Peggy, in a great way because he'd forgotten. That's all, Missus,' said
Paul, looking shamefaced. 'Good-night to you.'

'No, no, that won't do. I must have you sit down and get dry,' said Mrs.
King, nursing up the remains of the fire; and as Paul's day-garments
served him for night-gear likewise, he could hardly help accepting the
invitation, and spreading his chilled hands to the fire.

As to Mrs. King's feelings, it must be owned that, grateful as she was,
it was rather like sitting opposite to the heap in the middle of Mr.
Shepherd's farm-yard.

'Would you take that?' she said, holding out a three-penny piece. 'I'd
make it twice as much if I could, but times are hard.'

'No, no, Missus, I didn't