'No, no, father. It is quite enough.'

'Good. We understand each other. Of course this is a temporary
arrangement. I must have time to think over grandfather's ideas. Why,
you are a mere child yet, Janey. Seventeen! A mere child, my dear!'

Forgetting the decorum imposed by his costume, Joseph became all but
gay, so delightfully were things arranging themselves. A hundred a year
he could very well afford just to keep his conscience at ease; and for
Jane it would be wealth. Excellent Mrs. Byass was as good a guardian as
could anywhere be found, and Jane's discretion forbade any fear on her
account when--business should take him away.

'Well now, we've talked quite long enough. Don't think for a moment
that you hadn't your grandfather's confidence, my dear; it would be
distressing yourself wholly without reason--wholly. Be a good
girl--why, there you see; I speak to you as if you were a child. And so
you are, poor little girl--far too young to have worldly troubles. No,
no; I must relieve you of all that, until--Well now, I'll leave you for
to-day. Good-bye, my dear.'

He kissed her cheek, but Jane, sobbing a little, put her pure lips to
his. Joseph looked about him for an instant as if he had forgotten
something, then departed with what seemed unnecessary haste.

Jane and Mrs. Byass had a long talk before dinner-time. Mystery was at
an end between them now; they talked much of the past, more of the
future.

At two o'clock Jane received a visit from Miss Lant. This lady was
already apprised by her friend Mr. Percival of all that had come to
pass; she was prepared to exercise much discretion, but Jane soon
showed her that this was needless, The subject of pressing importance
to the latter was Pennyloaf's disastrous circumstances; unable to do
all she wished, Jane was much relieved when her charitable friend
proposed to set off to Merlin Place forthwith and ascertain how help
could most effectually be given. Yes; it was good to be constrained to
think of another's sorrows.

There passed a fortnight, during which Jane spent some hours each day
with Pennyloaf. By the kindness of fate only one of Bob's children
survived him, but it was just this luckless infant whose existence made
Pennyloaf's position so difficult. Alone, she could have gone back to
her slop-work, or some less miserable slavery might have been
discovered; but Pennyloaf dreaded leaving her child each day in the
care of strangers, being only too well aw