'I s'pose they might.'

'I haven't spoken to Jane yet. Time enough after the funeral. What
shall we do for the poor girl, eh?'

'How do I know?'

'You won't grudge her a couple of pounds a week, or so, just to enable
her to live with the Byasses, as she has been doing?'

'I s'pose the money's your own to do what you like with.'

'Very kind of you to say so, my dear. But we're well-to-do people now,
and we must be polite to each other. Where shall we take a house, Clem?
Would you like to be a bit out of town? There's very nice places within
easy reach of King's Cross, you know, on the Great Northern. A man I
know lives at Potter's Bar, and finds it very pleasant; good air. Of
course I must be within easy reach of business.'

She kept drawing her nails over a fold in her dress, making a scratchy
sound.

'It happened just at the right time,' he continued. 'The business wants
a little more capital put into it. I tell you what it is, Clem; in a
year or two we shall be coining money, old girl.'

'Shall you?'

'Right enough. There's just one thing I'm a little anxious about; you
won't mind me mentioning it? Do you think your mother'll expect us to
do anything for her?'

Clem regarded him with cautious scrutiny. He was acting well, and her
profound distrust began to be mingled with irritating uncertainty.

'What can she expect? If she does, she'll have to be disappointed,
that's all.'

'I don't want to seem mean, you know. But then she isn't so badly
herself, is she?'

'I know nothing about it. You'd better ask her.'

And Clem grinned. Thereupon Joseph struck a facetious note, and for
half an hour made himself very agreeable. Now for the first time, he
said, could he feel really settled; life was smooth before him. They
would have a comfortable home, the kind of place to which he could
invite his friends; one or two excellent fellows he knew would bring
their wives, and so Clem would have more society.

'Suppose you learn the piano, old girl? It wouldn't be amiss.
By-the-by, I hope they'll turn you out some creditable mourning. You'll
have to find a West End dressmaker.'

She listened, and from time to time smiled ambiguously. . . .

At noon of the next day Clem was walking on that part of the Thames
Embankment which is between Waterloo Bridge and the Temple Pier. It was
a mild morning, misty, but illuminated now and then with rays of
sunlight, which gleamed dully upon the river and gave a yellowness to
r