sorry
lodgings. Pennyloaf was comparatively an old friend; she represented
the past, its contented work, its familiar associations, its abundant
happiness. And now, though Jane did not acknowledge to herself that she
regretted the old state of things, still less that she feared the
future, it was undeniable that the past seemed very bright in her
memory, and that something weighed upon her heart, forbidding such
gladsomeness as she had known.

CHAPTER XXVI

SIDNEY'S STRUGGLE

In the dreary days when autumn is being choked by the first fogs,
Sidney Kirkwood had to bestir himself and to find new lodgings. The
cheerless task came upon him just when he had already more than
sufficient trouble, and to tear himself out of the abode in which he
had spent eight years caused him more than regret; he felt
superstitiously about it, and questioned fate as to what sorrows might
be lurking for him behind this corner in life's journey. Move he must;
his landlady was dead, and the house would perhaps be vacant for a long
time. After making search about Islington one rainy evening, he found
himself at the end of Hanover Street, and was drawn to the familiar
house; not, however, to visit the Snowdons, but to redeem a promise
recently made to Bessie Byass, who declared herself vastly indignant at
the neglect with which he treated her. So, instead of going up the
steps to the front door, he descended into the area. Bessie herself
opened to him, and after a shrewd glance, made as though she would
close the door again. 'Nothing for you! The idea of beggars coming down
the area-steps Be off!'

'I'm worse than a beggar,' replied Sidney. 'Housebreaking's more in my
line.'

And he attempted to force an entrance. Bessie struggled, but had to
give in, overcome with laughter. Samuel was enjoying a pipe in the
front kitchen; in spite of the dignity of keeping a servant (to whom
the back kitchen was sacred), Mr. and Mrs. Byass frequently spent their
evenings below stairs in the same manner as of old.

The talk began with Sidney's immediate difficulties.

'Now if it had only happened half a year ago,' said Bessie, 'I should
have got you into our first-floor rooms.'

'Shouldn't wonder if we have him there yet, some day,' remarked Sam,
winking at his wife.

'Not him,' was Bessie's rejoinder, with a meaning smile. 'He's a cool
hand, is Mr. Kirkwood. He knows how to wait. When _something_ happens,
we shall have him taking a house out a