etter. "I am
sure your sister will be glad to see you, Debby."

Deborah sniffed and scratched her elbow. "Relatives ain't friends in our
family," she said, shaking her head, "whatever you may say, my
deary-sweet. Father knocked mother int' lunatics arter she'd nagged 'im
to drunk an' police-cells. Three brothers I 'ad, and all of 'em that
'andy with their fistises as they couldn't a-bear to live in 'armony
without black eyes and swolled bumps all over them. As to Matilder, she
an' me never did, what you might call, hit it orf, by reason of 'er not
givin' way to me, as she should ha' done, me bein' the youngest and what
you might call the baby of the lot. We ain't seen each other fur years,
and the meetin' will be cold. She'll not have much forgiveness fur me
bein' a bride, when she's but a lone cross-patch, drat her."

"Don't quarrel with her, Debby. She has written you a very nice letter,
asking you to go down to Mrs. Krill's house in Kensington, and she
really wants to see you before she goes back to Christchurch to-night."

"Well, I'll go," said Deborah, suddenly; "but I don't like leavin' you
all by your own very self, my sunflower."

"I'll be all right, Debby. Paul comes at four o'clock, and you'll be
back at five."

"Sooner, if me an' Matilder don't hit if orf, or if we hit each other,
which, knowin' 'er 'abits, I do expects. But Bart's out till six, and
there won't be anyone to look arter them as washes--four of 'em," added
Mrs. Tawsey, rubbing her nose, "and as idle as porkpines."

"Mrs. Purr can look after them."

"Look arter gin more like," said Deborah, contemptuously. "She's allays
suckin', sly-like, tryin' to purtend as it's water, as if the smell
didn't give it away, whatever the color may be. An' here she is, idling
as usual. An' may I arsk, Mrs. Purr ma'am," demanded Deborah with great
politeness, "wot I pays you fur in the way of ironin'?"

But Mrs. Purr was too excited to reply. She brushed past her indignant
mistress and faced Sylvia, waving a dirty piece of paper. "Lor', miss,"
she almost screamed, "you do say as you want t'know where that limb Tray
'ave got to--"

"Yes--yes," said Sylvia, rising, "he escaped from Mr. Hurd, and we want
to find him very much."

"It's a letter from 'im," said Mrs. Purr, thrusting the paper into
Sylvia's hand; "tho' 'ow he writes, not 'avin' bin to a board school, I
dunno. He's in a ken at Lambith, and ill at that. Want's me t'go an' see
'im. But I can't lea