r than before, and her shabby mourning was
getting shabbier and duller. She was evidently hard-worked for very
little pay; and their condition was not improved, only sustained by
her exertions. Things seemed to be very bad with them altogether, and
with little hope of amendment; for poor Mrs Lawson had been 'brought
up as a lady,' and so was doubly incapable--by education as well as
by temperament--of gaining her own living. She was now employed as
daily governess in the family of a city tradesman--people, who though
they were kindly-natured enough, had as much as they could do in
keeping their own fortunes afloat without giving any substantial aid
to others, and who had therefore engaged her at the lowest possible
salary, such as was barely sufficient to keep her and her son from
absolute want.

The boy had long been very busy. He used to sit by the window all the
day, earnestly employed with paper and scissors; and I wondered what
fascinating occupation he had found to chain him for so many hours by
those chinks and draughts; for he was usually enveloped in shawls, and
blankets were hung about his chair, and every tender precaution taken
that he should not increase his sickness by exposure even to the
ordinary changes in the temperature of a dwelling-room. But now, in
spite of his terrible cough, in spite of his hurried breathing, he
used to sit for hours on hours by the dusky window, cutting and
cutting at that eternal paper, as if his very life depended on his
task. But he used to gather up the cuttings carefully, and hide all
out of sight before his mother came home--sometimes nearly caught
before quite prepared, when he used to shew as much trepidation as if
committing a crime.

This went on for some time, and at last he went out. It was
fortunately a fine day--a clear, cold, January day; but he had no
sooner breathed the brisk frosty air than a terrible fit of coughing
seemed to threaten his frail existence. He did not turn back though;
and I watched him slowly pass down the street, holding on by the
rails, and every now and then stopping to take breath. I saw a
policeman speak to him in a grave, compassionating way, as if--seeing
that he was so young and feeble, and so much a stranger that he was
asking his way to Oxford Street, while going in a totally contrary
direction--he was advising him to go home, and to let some one else do
his business--his father perhaps; but the boy only smiled, and shook
his head