you know."

Then Miss Mackenzie knew that Hannah Protheroe intended to become
Hannah Buggins, and she understood the whole mystery of the tobacco
smoke.

On the Monday she went to the house in Gower Street, and communicated
to them the fact that she had left the Cedars. Miss Colza was in the
room with her sister-in-law and nieces, and as it was soon evident
that Miss Colza knew the whole history of her misfortune with
reference to the property, she talked about her affairs before Miss
Colza as though that young lady had been one of her late brother's
family. But yet she felt that she did not like Miss Colza, and once
or twice felt almost inclined to resent certain pushing questions
which Miss Colza addressed to her.

"And have you quarrelled with all the Ball family?" the young lady
asked, putting great emphasis on the word all.

"I did not say that I had quarrelled with any of them," said Miss
Mackenzie.

"Oh! I beg pardon. I thought as you came away so sudden like, and as
you didn't see any of them since, you know--"

"It is a matter of no importance whatever," said Miss Mackenzie.

"No: none in the least," said Miss Colza. And in this way they made
up their minds to hate each other.

But what did the woman mean by talking in this way of all the Balls,
as though a quarrel with one of the family was a thing of more
importance than a quarrel with any of the others? Could she know, or
could she even guess, anything of John Ball and of the offer he had
made? But this mystery was soon cleared up in Margaret's mind, when,
at Mrs Mackenzie's request, they two went upstairs into that lady's
bedroom for a little private conversation.

The conversation was desired for purposes appertaining solely to the
convenience of the widow. She wanted some money, and then, with tears
in her eyes, she demanded to know what was to be done. Miss Colza
paid her eighteen shillings a week for board and lodging, and that
was now two weeks in arrear; and one bedroom was let to a young man
employed in the oilcloth factory, at seven shillings a week.

"And the rent is ninety pounds, and the taxes twenty-two," said Mrs
Mackenzie, with her handkerchief up to her eyes; "and there's the
taxman come now for seven pound ten, and where I'm to get it, unless
I coined my blood, I don't know."

Margaret gave her two sovereigns which she had in her purse, and
promised to send her a cheque for the amount of the taxes due.
Then she told as much a