h a sudden
movement of affection, and left on it some fervent kisses, whispering
tenderly--

"Take care of yourself, my darling Lucy!"

Leaving her to make the best of the business, Mr. Lionel proceeded to
the drawing-room. A few minutes' stay in it, and then he pleaded an
engagement, and departed.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

IMPROVEMENTS.

Things were changed now out of doors. There was no dissatisfaction, no
complaining. Roy was deposed from his petty authority, and all men were
at peace, with the exception, possibly, of Mr. Peckaby. Mr. Peckaby did
not, find his shop flourish. Indeed, far from flourishing, so completely
was it deserted, that he was fain to give up the trade, and accept work
at Chuff the blacksmith's forge, to which employment, it appeared, he
had been brought up. A few stale articles remained in the shop, and the
counters remained; chiefly for show. Mrs. Peckaby made a pretence of
attending to customers; but she did not get two in a week. And if those
two entered, they could not be served, for she was pretty sure to be
out, gossiping.

This state of things did not please Mrs. Peckaby. In one point of view
the failing of the trade pleased her, because it left her less work to
do; but she did not like the failing of their income. Whether the shop
had been actually theirs, or whether it had been Roy's, there was no
doubt that they had drawn sufficient from it to live comfortably and to
find Mrs. Peckaby in smart caps. This source was gone, and all they had
now was an ignominious fourteen shillings a week, which Peckaby earned.
The prevalent opinion in Clay Lane was that this was quite as much as
Peckaby deserved; and that it was a special piece of undeserved good
fortune which had taken off the blacksmith's brother and assistant in
the nick of time, Joe Chuff, to make room for him. Mrs. Peckaby,
however, was in a state of semi-rebellion; the worse, that she did not
know upon whom to visit it, or see any remedy. She took to passing her
time in groaning and tears, somewhat after the fashion of Dinah Roy,
venting her complaints upon anybody that would listen to her.

Lionel had not said to the men, "You shall leave Peckaby's shop." He had
not even hinted to them that it might be desirable to leave it. In
short, he had not interfered. But, the restraint of Roy being removed
from the men, they quitted it of their own accord. "No more Roy; no more
Peckaby; no more grinding down--hurrah!" shouted they, a