then came to the door of
the room. Amy pushed it open, and showed that a lamp gave light within.

To poor homes Sidney Kirkwood was no stranger, but a poorer than this
now disclosed to him he had never seen. The first view of it made him
draw in his breath, as though a pang went through him. Hewett was not
here. The two younger children were sitting upon a mattress, eating
bread. Amy stepped up to the bedside and bent to examine her mother's
face.

'I think she's asleep,' she whispered, turning round to Sidney.

Sleep, or loath? It might well be the latter, for anything Sidney could
determine to the contrary. The face he could not recognise, or only
when he had gazed at it for several minutes. Oh, pitiless world, that
pursues its business and its pleasure, that takes its fill of life from
the rising to the going down of the sun, and within sound of its
clamour is this hiding-place of anguish and desolation!

'Mother, here's Mr. Kirkwood.'

Repeated several times, the words at length awoke consciousness. The
dying woman could not move her head from the pillow; her eyes wandered,
but in the end rested upon Sidney. He saw an expression of surprise, of
anxiety, then a smile of deep contentment.

'I knew you'd come. I did so want to see you. Don't go just yet, will
you?'

The lump in his throat hindered Sidney from replying. Hot tears, an
agony in the shedding, began to stream down his cheeks.

'Where's John?' she continued, trying to look about the room. 'Amy,
where's your father? He'll come soon, Sidney. I want you and him to be
friends again. He knows he'd never ought to a' said what he did. Don't
take on so, Sidney! There'll be Amy to look after the others. She'll be
a good girl. She's promised me. It's John I'm afraid for. If only he
can keep from drink. Will you try and help him, Sidney?'

There was a terrible earnestness of appeal in the look she fixed upon
him. Sidney replied that he would hold nothing more sacred than the
charge she gave him.

'It'll be easier for them to live,' continued the feeble voice. 'I've
been ill so long, and there's been so much expense. Amy'll be earning
something before long.'

'Don't trouble,' Sidney answered. 'They shall never want as long as I
live--never!'

'Sidney, come a bit nearer. Do you know anything about _her_?'

He shook his head.

'If ever--if ever she comes back, don't turn away from her--will you?'

'I would welcome her as I would a sister of my own.'