ers, most of them had known little else for
weeks than alternations of toil and sickness; they were as much amused
and excited to-night by Mrs. Jellison's audacities as a Londoner is by
his favourite low comedian at his favourite music-hall. They played
chorus to her, laughed, baited her; even old Patton was drawn against
his will into a caustic sociability.

Marcella meanwhile sat on her stool, her chin upon her hand, and her
full glowing eyes turned upon the little spectacle, absorbing it all
with a covetous curiosity.

The light-heartedness, the power of enjoyment left in these old folk
struck her dumb. Mrs. Brunt had an income of two-and-sixpence a week,
_plus_ two loaves from the parish, and one of the parish or "charity"
houses, a hovel, that is to say, of one room, scarcely fit for human
habitation at all. She had lost five children, was allowed two shillings
a week by two labourer sons, and earned sixpence a week--about--by
continuous work at "the plait." Her husband had been run over by a farm
cart and killed; up to the time of his death his earnings averaged about
twenty-eight pounds a year. Much the same with the Pattons. They had
lost eight children out of ten, and were now mainly supported by the
wages of a daughter in service. Mrs. Patton had of late years suffered
agonies and humiliations indescribable, from a terrible illness which
the parish doctor was quite incompetent to treat, being all through a
singularly sensitive woman, with a natural instinct for the decorous and
the beautiful.

Amazing! Starvation wages; hardships of sickness and pain; horrors of
birth and horrors of death; wholesale losses of kindred and friends; the
meanest surroundings; the most sordid cares--of this mingled cup of
village fate every person in the room had drunk, and drunk deep. Yet
here in this autumn twilight, they laughed and chattered, and
joked--weird, wrinkled children, enjoying an hour's rough play in a
clearing of the storm! Dependent from birth to death on squire, parson,
parish, crushed often, and ill-treated, according to their own ideas,
but bearing so little ill-will; amusing themselves with their own
tragedies even, if they could but sit by a fire and drink a neighbour's
cup of tea.

Her heart swelled and burned within her. Yes, the old people were past
hoping for; mere wreck and driftwood on the shore, the spring-tide of
death would soon have swept them all into unremembered graves. But the
young men and