the stairs with an armful of belongings, preceded by
Mrs Gowler carrying the lamp, the woman impressed at the cut and
material of which her last arrival's garments were made.

When Mavis had wound up the clock and placed it on the mantelpiece,
and, with a few deft touches, had made the room a trifle less
repellent, she saw her landlady come into the room with three bottles
and two glasses (one of these latter had recently held stout) tucked
under her arms.

"I thought we'd 'ave a friendly little chat, my dear," remarked Mrs
Gowler, as if to explain her hospitality.

Just then, Mavis's heart ached for the sympathy and support of some
motherly person in whom she could confide. A tender word, a hint of
appreciation of her present extremity, would have done much to give her
stay for the approaching dread ordeal. Perhaps this was why, for the
time being, she stifled her dislike of Mrs Gowler and submitted to the
woman's presence. Mrs Gowler unscrewed a bottle of stout, poured
herself out a glass, drank it at one draught, and then half filled a
glass for Mavis.

"Drink it, my dear. It will do us both good," cried Mrs Gowler, who
already showed signs of having drunk more than she could conveniently
carry.

Mavis, not to seem ungracious, sipped the stout as she sat on the bed.

"'Ow is it you ain't in a proper nursing 'ome?" asked Mrs Gowler, after
she had opened the second bottle.

"Aren't I?" asked Mavis quickly.

"I've 'eard of better," answered Mrs Gowler guardedly. "Though, after
all, I may be a better friend to you than all o' them together, with
their doctors an' all."

"Indeed!" remarked Mavis, wondering what she meant.

"But that's tellin's," continued Mrs Gowler, looking greedily at Mavis
from the depths of her little eyes.

"Is it?"

"Babies is little cusses; noisy, squally little brats."

"Not one's own."

"That's what I say. I love the little dears. Gawd's messages I call
them. All the same, they're there, as you might say. An' yer can't
explain them away."

"True," smiled Mavis.

"An' their cost!" grumbled Mrs Gowler, as she drained the second bottle
by putting it to her lips. "They simply eat good money, an' never 'ave
enough."

"One must look after one's own," remarked Mavis.

"Little dears! 'Ow I love their pretty prattle. It makes me think of
'eavens an' Gawd's angels," said Mrs Gowler. Then, as Mavis did not
make any remark, she added: "Six was born 'ere last week."

"So many!"

"