mering. So he prospered; but, perhaps, he owed his prosperity
mainly to his hair. He rubbed his hands, and smiled, and bowed his
head about, as he thought what answer he might best make. He was
quite willing that poor Carry's soul should be saved. That would
naturally be Mr. Fenwick's affair. But as to saving her body, with
any co-operation from himself or Mrs. Jay,--he did not see his way at
all through such a job as that.

"I'm afraid she is a bad 'un, Mr. Fenwick; I'm afraid she is," said
Mr. Jay.

"The thing is, whether we can't put our heads together and make her
less bad," said the Vicar. "She must live somewhere, Mr. Jay."

"I don't know whether almost the best thing for 'em isn't to die,--of
course after they have repented, Mr. Fenwick. You see, sir, it is so
very low, and so shameful, and they do bring such disgrace on their
poor families. There isn't anything a young man can do that is nearly
so bad,--is there, Mr. Fenwick?"

"I'm not at all sure of that, Mr. Jay."

"Ain't you now?"

"I'm not going to defend Carry Brattle;--but if you will think how
very small an amount of sin may bring a woman to this wretched
condition, your heart will be softened. Poor Carry;--she was so
bright, and so good and so clever!"

"Clever she was, Mr. Fenwick;--and bright, too, as you call it.
But--"

"Of course we know all that. The question now is, what can we do to
help her? She is living now at this present moment, an orderly, sober
life; but without occupation, or means, or friends. Will your wife
let her come to her,--for a month or so, just to try her?"

"Come and live here!" exclaimed the ironmonger.

"That is what I would suggest. Who is to give her the shelter of a
roof, if a sister will not?"

"I don't think that Mrs. Jay would undertake that," said the
ironmonger, who had ceased to rub his hands and to bow, and whose
face had now become singularly long and lugubrious.

"May I ask her?"

"It wouldn't do any good, Mr. Fenwick;--it wouldn't indeed."

"It ought to do good. May I try?"

"If you ask me, Mr. Fenwick, I should say no; indeed I should. Mrs.
Jay isn't any way strong, and the bare mention of that disreputable
connexion produces a sickness internally;--it does, indeed, Mr.
Fenwick."

"You will do nothing, then, to save from perdition the sister of your
own wife;--and will let your wife do nothing?"

"Now, Mr. Fenwick, don't be hard on me;--pray don't be hard on me. I
have been respectable,