x! I'm sure I saw a very nice
overcoat marked twenty-five shillings, not long ago; but we can't buy
one without knowing grandad's measure.'

'Oh, but you know it near enough, I think.'

'Near enough! But I want it to look nice. I wonder whether I could take
a measure without him knowing it? If I could manage to get behind him
and just measure across the shoulders, I think that 'ud do.'

Thyrza laughed.

'Go now. He's sure to be sitting with the Bowers. Take the tape and
try.'

'No, I'll take a bit of string; then he wouldn't think anything if he
saw it.'

Lydia put on her hat and jacket.

'I'll be back as soon as ever I can. Play with the money like a good
baby. You're sure you're quite warm?'

Thyrza was wrapped in a large shawl, which hooded over her head. Lydia
had taken incredible pains to stop every possible draught at door and
window. A cheerful fire threw its glow upon the invalid's face.

'I'm like a toast. Just look up at the shop next to Mrs. Isaac's,
Lyddy. There was a sort of brownish coat, with laps over the pockets;
it was hanging just by the door. We must get a few more shillings if it
makes all the difference, mustn't we?'

'We'll see. Good-bye, Blue-eyes.'

Lydia went her way. For a wonder, there was no fog tonight, but the
street lamps glistened on wet pavements, and vehicles as they rattled
along sent mud-volleys to either side. In passing through Lambeth Walk,
Lydia stopped at the clothing shop of which Thyrza had spoken. The
particular brownish coat had seemingly been carried off by a purchaser,
but she was glad to notice one or two second-hand garments of very
respectable appearance which came within the sum at her command. She
passed on into Paradise Street and entered Mrs. Bower's shop.

In the parlour the portly Mr. Bower stood with his back to the fire; he
was speaking oracularly, and, at Lydia's entrance, looked up with some
annoyance at being interrupted. Mr. Boddy sat in his accustomed corner.
Mrs. Bower, arrayed in the grandeur suitable to a winter evening, was
condescending to sew.

'Mary out?' Lydia asked, as she looked round.

'Yes, my dear,' replied Mrs. Bower, with a sigh of resignation. 'She's
at a prayer meetin', as per us'l. That's the third night this blessed
week. I 'old with goin' to chapel, but like everything else it ought to
be done in moderation. Mary's gettin' beyond everything. I don't
believe in makin' such a fuss o' religion; you can be religious in your