he day was
warm--had been standing for some little time in Mrs. Budgen's doorway on
the ground floor at Hound Street. Knowing that Hughs was to be released
that morning early, he had, with the circumspection and foresight of his
character, reasoned thus: 'I shan't lie easy in my bed, I shan't hev no
peace until I know that low feller's not a-goin' to misdemean himself
with me. It's no good to go a-puttin' of it off. I don't want him
comin' to my room attackin' of old men. I'll be previous with him in the
passage. The lame woman 'll let me. I shan't trouble her. She'll be
palliable between me and him, in case he goes for to attack me. I ain't
afraid of him.'

But, as the minutes of waiting went by, his old tongue, like that of a
dog expecting chastisement, appeared ever more frequently to moisten his
twisted, discoloured lips. 'This comes of mixin' up with soldiers,' he
thought, 'and a lowclass o' man like that. I ought to ha' changed my
lodgin's. He'll be askin' me where that young girl is, I shouldn't
wonder, an' him lost his character and his job, and everything, and all
because o' women!'

He watched the broad-faced woman, Mrs. Budgen, in whose grey eyes the
fighting light so fortunately never died, painfully doing out her rooms,
and propping herself against the chest of drawers whereon clustered china
cups and dogs as thick as toadstools on a bank.

"I've told my Charlie," she said, "to keep clear of Hughs a bit. They
comes out as prickly as hedgehogs. Pick a quarrel as soon as look at
you, they will."

'Oh dear,' thought Creed, 'she's full o' cold comfort.' But, careful of
his dignity, he answered, "I'm a-waitin' here to engage the situation.
You don't think he'll attack of me with definition at this time in the
mornin'?"

The lame woman shrugged her shoulders. "He'll have had a drop of
something," she said, "before he comes home. They gets a cold feelin' in
the stomach in them places, poor creatures!"

The old butler's heart quavered up into his mouth. He lifted his shaking
hand, and put it to his lips, as though to readjust himself.

"Oh yes," he said; "I ought to ha' given notice, and took my things away;
but there, poor woman, it seemed a-hittin' of her when she was down. And
I don't want to make no move. I ain't got no one else that's interested
in me. This woman's very good about mendin' of my clothes. Oh dear, yes;
she don't grudge a little thing like that!"

The lame woman hobble