not know, papa."

"Do you think that he will not go?"

"I feel that I know nothing, papa. You must not let him stay here
always, you know."

"And what will become of you when he goes?"

"I must go with him. Why should you be sacrificed also? I will tell
him that he must leave the house. I am not afraid of him, papa."

"Not yet, my dear;--not yet. We will see."

At this time Lopez declared his purpose one day of dining at the
Progress, and Mr. Wharton took advantage of the occasion to remain
at home with his daughter. Everett was now expected, and there was a
probability that he might come on this evening. Mr. Wharton therefore
returned from his chambers early; but when he reached the house he
was told that there was a woman in the dining-room with Mrs. Lopez.
The servant did not know what woman. She had asked to see Mrs. Lopez,
and Mrs. Lopez had gone down to her.

The woman in the dining-room was Mrs. Parker. She had called at the
house at about half-past five, and Emily had at once come down when
summoned by tidings that a "lady" wanted to see her. Servants have a
way of announcing a woman as a lady, which clearly expresses their
own opinion that the person in question is not a lady. So it had
been on the present occasion, but Mrs. Lopez had at once gone to her
visitor. "Oh, Mrs. Parker, I am so glad to see you. I hope you are
well."

"Indeed, then, Mrs. Lopez, I am very far from well. No poor woman,
who is the mother of five children, was ever farther from being well
than I am."

"Is anything wrong?"

"Wrong, ma'am! Everything is wrong. When is Mr. Lopez going to pay my
husband all the money he has took from him?"

"Has he taken money?"

"Taken! he has taken everything. He has shorn my husband as bare as a
board. We're ruined, Mrs. Lopez, and it's your husband has done it.
When we were at Dovercourt, I told you how it was going to be. His
business has left him, and now there is nothing. What are we to do?"
The woman was seated on a chair, leaning forward with her two hands
on her knees. The day was wet, the streets were half mud and half
snow, and the poor woman, who had made her way through the slush, was
soiled and wet. "I look to you to tell me what me and my children is
to do. He's your husband, Mrs. Lopez."

"Yes, Mrs. Parker; he is my husband."

"Why couldn't he let Sexty alone? Why should the like of him be
taking the bread out of my children's mouths? What had we ever done
to him? You're r