thing at you. Baby's in bed, and mind,
you wake him if you dare!'

Sidney would have taken his leave, but found it impossible. Mrs. Byass
declared that if he would not stay to supper he should never enter the
house again.

'Let's make a night of it!' cried Sam, standing in the doorway. 'Let's
have three pots of six ale and a bottle of old Tom! Let us be reckless!'

His wife caught up the pillow from the sofa and hurled it at him.
Samuel escaped just in time. The next moment his head was again thrust
forward.

'Let's send to the High Street for three cold roast fowls and a
beef-steak pie! Let's get custards and cheese-cakes and French pastry!
Let's have a pine-apple and preserved ginger! Who says, Go it for once?'

Mrs. Byass caught up the poker and sprang after him. From the passage
came sounds of scuffling and screaming, and in the end of something
produced by the lips. Mrs. Byass then showed a very red face at the
door, and said:

'_Isn't_ he a fool? Just wait a minute while I get the table laid.'

Supper was soon ready in the comfortable kitchen. A cold shoulder of
mutton, a piece of cheese, pickled beetroot, a seed-cake, and raspberry
jam; such was the fare to which Bessie Byass invited her husband and
her guest. On a side-table were some open cardboard boxes containing
artificial flowers and leaves; for Bessie had now and then a little
'mounting' to do for a shop in Upper Street, and in that way aided the
income of the family. She was in even better spirits than usual at the
prospect of letting her top-rooms. On hearing that piece of news,
Samuel, who had just come from the nearest public-house with a foaming
jug, executed a wild dance round the room and inadvertently knocked two
plates from the dresser. This accident made his wife wrathful, but only
for a moment; presently she was laughing as unrestrainedly as ever, and
bestowing upon the repentant young man her familiar flattery.

At eleven o'clock Sidney left them, and mused with smiles on his way
home. This was not exactly his ideal of domestic happiness, yet it was
better than the life led by the Hewetts--better than that of other
households with which he was acquainted--better far, it seemed to him,
than the aspirations which were threatening to lead poor Clara--who
knew whither? A temptation beset him to walk round into Upper Street
and pass Mrs. Tubbs's bar. He resisted it, knowing that the result
would only be a night of sleepless anger and misery