and a perforated network in the window-pane.
Becky listened patiently; for Mrs. Mivers was only a philosopher in
her talk, and she had proved herself anything but a philosopher in her
actions, by the spontaneous present of five shillings, and the promise
of a basket of victuals and some good wine to keep the cold wind she
invited to the apartment out of the stomach.

Percival imitated the silence of Becky, whose spirit was so bowed down
by an existence of drudgery that not even the sight of her foster-son
could draw her attention from the respect due to a superior.

"And is this poor cranky-looking cretur your son, Mrs. Becky?" said the
visitor, struck at last by the appearance of the ex-sweeper as he stood
at the threshold, hat in hand.

"No, indeed, marm," answered Becky; "I often says, says I: 'Child, you
be the son of Sint Poll's.'"

Beck smiled proudly.

"It was agin the grit church, marm ---- But it's a long story. My poor
good man had not a long been dead,--as good a man as hever lived, marm,"
and Becky dropped a courtesy; "he fell off a scaffold, and pitched right
on his 'ead, or I should not have come on the parish, marm,--and that's
the truth on it!"

"Very well, I shall call and hear all about it; a sad case, I dare say.
You see, your husband should have subscribed to our Loan Society, and
then they'd have found him a 'andsome coffin, and given three pounds to
his widder. But the poor are so benighted in these parts. I'm sure, sir,
I can't guess what brought you here; but that's no business of mine.
And how are all at Old Brompton?" Here Mrs. Mivers bridled indignantly.
"There was a time when Miss Mainwaring was very glad to come and chat
with Mr. M. and myself; but now 'rum has riz,' as the saying is,--not
but what I dare say it's not her fault, poor thing! That stiff aunt of
hers,--she need not look so high; pride and poverty, forsooth!"

While delivering these conciliatory sentences, Mrs. Mivers had gathered
up her gown, and was evidently in the bustle of departure. As she now
nodded to Becky, Percival stepped up, and, with his irresistible smile,
offered her his arm. Much surprised and much flattered, Mrs. Mivers
accepted it. As she did so, he gently detained her while he said to
Becky,--"My good friend, I have brought you the poor lad to whom you
have been a mother, to tell you that good deeds find their reward sooner
or later. As for him, make yourself easy; he will inform you of the new
step h