ld me you didn't
mind--I just said a word or two; and he nodded, that was all.'

She became silent. John, racked by doubts as to whether he should say
more of Sidney or still hold his peace, sat rubbing the back of one
hand with the other and looking about the room.

'Father,' Clara resumed presently, 'what became of that child at Mrs.
Peckover's, that her grandfather came and took away? Snowdon; yes, that
was her name; Jane Snowdon.'

'You remember they went to live with somebody you used to know,' John
replied, with hesitation. 'They're still in the same house.'

'So she's grown up. Did you ever hear about that old man having a lot
of money?'

'Why, my dear, I never heard nothing but what them Peckovers talked at
the time. But there was a son of his turned up as seemed to have some
money. He married Mrs. Peckover's daughter.'

Clara expressed surprise.

'A son of his? Not the girl's father?

'Yes; her father. I don't know nothing about his history. It's for him,
or partly for him, as I'm workin' now, Clara. The firm's Lake, Snowdon
& Go.'

'Why didn't you mention it before?'

'I don't hardly know, my dear.'

She looked at him, aware that something was being kept back.

'Tell me about the girl. What does she do?'

'She goes to work, I believe; but I haven't heard much about her since
a good time. Sidney Kirkwood's a friend of her grandfather. He often
goes there, I believe.'

'What is she like?' Clara asked, after a pause. 'She used to be such a
weak, ailing thing, I never thought she'd grow up. What's she like to
look at?'

'I can't tell you, my dear. I don't know as ever I see her since those
times.'

Again a silence.

'Then it's Mr. Kirkwood that has told you what you know of her?'

'Why, no. It was chiefly Mrs. Peckover told me. She did say, Clara--but
then I can't tell whether it's true or not--she did say something about
Sidney and her.'

He spoke with difficulty, feeling constrained to make the disclosure,
but anxious as to its result. Clara made no movement, seemed to have
heard with indifference.

'It's maybe partly 'cause of that,' added John, in a low voice, 'that
he doesn't like to come here.'

'Yes; I understand.'

They spoke no more on the subject.

CHAPTER XXXI

WOMAN AND ACTRESS

In a tenement on the same staircase, two floors below, lived a family
with whom John Hewett was on friendly terms. Necessity calling these
people out of London for a few days, they had