him to that girl because I'm a feelin' man myself.'

'Much too feelin'!' Mrs. Beeton slapped the muffins into the dish, and
thought of comely housemaids long since dismissed on suspicion.

'I ain't ashamed of it, and it isn't for us to judge him hard so long
as he pays quiet and regular as he do. I know how to manage young
gentlemen, you know how to cook for them, and what I says is, let each
stick to his own business and then there won't be any trouble. Take them
muffins down, Liza, and be sure you have no words with that young woman.
His lot is cruel hard, and if he's crossed he do swear worse than any
one I've ever served.'

'That's a little better,' said Bessie, sitting down to the tea. 'You
needn't wait, thank you, Mrs. Beeton.'

'I had no intention of doing such, I do assure you.'

Bessie made no answer whatever. This, she knew, was the way in
which real ladies routed their foes, and when one is a barmaid at a
first-class public-house one may become a real lady at ten minutes'
notice.

Her eyes fell on Dick opposite her and she was both shocked and
displeased. There were droppings of food all down the front of his
coat; the mouth under the ragged ill-grown beard drooped sullenly; the
forehead was lined and contracted; and on the lean temples the hair was
a dusty indeterminate colour that might or might not have been called
gray. The utter misery and self-abandonment of the man appealed to
her, and at the bottom of her heart lay the wicked feeling that he was
humbled and brought low who had once humbled her.

'Oh! it is good to hear you moving about,' said Dick, rubbing his hands.

'Tell us all about your bar successes, Bessie, and the way you live
now.'

'Never mind that. I'm quite respectable, as you'd see by looking at me.

You don't seem to live too well. What made you go blind that sudden? Why
isn't there any one to look after you?'

Dick was too thankful for the sound of her voice to resent the tone of
it.

'I was cut across the head a long time ago, and that ruined my eyes. I
don't suppose anybody thinks it worth while to look after me any more.

Why should they?--and Mr. Beeton really does everything I want.'

'Don't you know any gentlemen and ladies, then, while you was--well?'

'A few, but I don't care to have them looking at me.'

'I suppose that's why you've growed a beard. Take it off, it don't
become you.'

'Good gracious, child, do you imagine that I think of what becomes of me