tter than a wild-beast tiger; but then
what can you do? There's never any good comes out of makin' a bother
with other people's business, is there? Fancy him comin' to see you!
Mrs. Peckover's afraid of him, I can see that, though she pretends she
isn't goin' to stand him interferin'. What do you think about him,
Sidney? He's sent for a doctor out of Islington; wouldn't have nothin'
to say to the other. He must have plenty of money, don't you think?
Mrs. Peckover says he's goin' to pay the money owin' to her for Jane's
keep. As if the poor thing hadn't more than paid for her bits of meals
an' her bed in the kitchen! Do you think that woman 'ud ever have kept
her if it wasn't she could make her a servant with no wages? If Jane
'ud been a boy, she'd a gone to the workhouse long ago. She's been that
handy, poor little mite! I've always done what I could for her; you
know that, Sidney. I do hope she'll get over it. If anything happens,
mind my word, there'll be a nice to-do! Clara says she'll go to a
magistrate an' let it all out, if nobody else will. She hates the
Peckovers, Clara does.'

'It won't come to that,' said Sidney. 'I can see the old man'll take
her away as soon as possible. He may have a little money; he's just
come back from Australia. I like the look of him myself.'

He began to talk of other subjects; waxed wrath at the misery of this
housing to which the family had shrunk; urged a removal from the vile
den as soon as ever it could be managed. Sidney always lost control of
himself when he talked with the Hewetts of their difficulties; the
people were, from his point of view, so lacking in resource, so
stubbornly rooted in profitless habit. Over and over again he had
implored them to take a rational view of the case, to borrow a few
pounds of him, to make a new beginning on clean soil. It was like
contending with some hostile force of nature; lie spent himself in vain.

As Hewett did not return, he at length took his leave, and went into
the back-room for a moment.

'She's asleep,' said Snowdon, rising from the chair where he had been
sitting deep in thought. 'It's a good sign.'

Sidney just looked towards the bed, and nodded with satisfaction. The
old man gave him a warm pressure of the hand, and he departed. All the
way home, he thought with singular interest of the bare sick-room, of
the white-headed man watching through the night; the picture impressed
him in a way that could not be explained by its