st.'

She pointed to a deal box which stood by the hearth. Pennyloaf went out
again.

Over the fireplace, the stained wall bore certain singular ornaments.
These were five coloured cards, such as are signed by one who takes a
pledge of total abstinence; each presented the signature, 'Maria
Candy,' and it was noticeable that at each progressive date the
handwriting had become more unsteady. Yes, five times had Maria Candy
promised, with the help of God, to abstain,' &c. &c.; each time she was
in earnest. But it appeared that the help of God availed little against
the views of one Mrs. Green, who kept the beer-shop in Rosoman Street,
once Mrs. Peckover's, and who could on no account afford to lose so
good a customer. For many years that house, licensed for the sale of
non-spirituous liquors, had been working Mrs. Candy's ruin; not a
particle of her frame but was vitiated by the drugs retailed there
under the approving smile of civilisation. Spirits would have been
harmless in comparison. The advantage of Mrs. Green's ale was that the
very first half-pint gave conscience its bemuddling sop; for a penny
you forgot all the cares of existence; for threepence you became a
yelling maniac.

Poor, poor creature She was sober to-night, sitting over the fire with
her face battered into shapelessness; and now that her fury had had its
way, she bitterly repented invoking the help of the law against her
husband. What use? what use? Perhaps he had now abandoned her for good,
and it was certain that the fear of him was the only thing that ever
checked her on the ruinous road she would so willingly have quitted.
But for the harm to himself, the only pity was he had not taken her
life outright. She knew all the hatefulness of her existence; she knew
also that only the grave would rescue her from it. The struggle was too
unequal between Mrs. Candy with her appeal to Providence, and Mrs.
Green with the forces of civilisation at her back.

Pennyloaf speedily returned with a ha'p'orth of milk, a pennyworth of
tea, and seven pounds (also price one penny) of coals in an apron. It
was very seldom indeed that the Candys had more of anything in their
room than would last them for the current day. There being no kettle,
water was put on to boil in a tin saucepan; the tea was made in a jug.
Pennyloaf had always been a good girl to her mother; she tended her as
well as she could to-night; but there was no word of affection from
either. Kindly sp