visitor's dress was very plain, and indicated
poverty; she wore a long black jacket, untrimmed, a boa of cheap fur,
tied at the throat with black ribbon, a hat of grey felt, black cotton
gloves.

'No one here?' she asked, seeing the empty kitchen.

'Goodness knows where they all are. I s'pose Dick's at his meeting; but
Alice and 'Arry had ought to be back by now. Sit you down to the table,
and I'll put on the vegetables; there's no call to wait for them. Only I
ain't got the beer.'

'Oh, but I didn't mean to come for supper,' said the girl, whose name
was Emma Vine. 'I only ran in to tell you poor Jane's down again with
rheumatic fever.'

Mrs. Mutimer was holding the frying-pan over the fire, turning the
contents over and over with a knife.

'You don't mean that!' she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder. 'Why,
it's the fifth time, ain't it?'

'It is indeed, and worse to get through every time. We didn't expect
she'd ever be able to walk again last autumn.'

'Dear, dear! what a thing them rheumatics is, to be sure! And you've
heard about Dick, haven't you?'

'Heard what?'

'Oh, I thought maybe it had got to you. He's lost his work, that's all.'

'Lost his work?' the girl repeated, with dismay. 'Why?'

'Why? What else had he to expect? 'Tain't likely they'll keep a man as
goes about making all his mates discontented and calling his employers
names at every street corner. I've been looking for it every week.
Yesterday one of the guvnors calls him up and tells him--just in a few
civil words--as perhaps it 'ud be better for all parties if he'd find a
place where he was more satisfied. "Well an' good," says Dick--you know
his way--and there he is.'

The girl had seated herself, and listened to this story with downcast
eyes. Courage seemed to fail her; she drew a long, quiet sigh. Her face
was of the kind that expresses much sweetness in irregular features. Her
look was very honest and gentle, with pathetic meanings for whoso had
the eye to catch them; a peculiar mobility of the lips somehow made one
think that she had often to exert herself to keep down tears. She
spoke in a subdued voice, always briefly, and with a certain natural
refinement in the use of uncultured language. When Mrs. Mutimer
ceased, Emma kept silence, and smoothed the front of her jacket with an
unconscious movement of the hand.

Mrs. Mutimer glanced at her and showed commiseration.

'Well, well, don't you worrit about it, Emma,' she sai