duction was over and I
had interrupted Mrs. Oliver's praises of my baby's beauty by speaking
about material matters, saying the terms were to be four shillings, the
man, who had seated himself on the sofa to put on his boots said, in a
voice that was like a shot out of a blunderbus:

"Five."

"How'd you mean, Ted?" said Mrs. Oliver, timidly. "Didn't we say four?"

"Five," said the man again, with a still louder volume of voice.

I could see that the poor woman was trembling, but assuming the sweet
air of persons who live in a constant state of fear, she said:

"Oh yes. It _was_ five, now I remember."

I reminded her that her letter had said four, but she insisted that I
must be mistaken, and when I told her I had the letter with me and she
could see it if she wished, she said:

"Then it must have been a slip of the pen in a manner of speaking,
ma'am. We allus talked of five. Didn't we, Ted?"

"Certainly," said her husband, who was still busy with his boots.

I saw what was going on, and I felt hot and angry, but there seemed to
be nothing to do except submit.

"Very well, we'll say five then," I said.

"Paid in advance," said the man, and when I answered that that would
suit me very well, he added:

"A month in advance, you know."

By this time I felt myself trembling with indignation, as well as
quivering with fear, for while I looked upon all the money I possessed
as belonging to baby, to part with almost the whole of it in one moment
would reduce me to utter helplessness, so I said, turning to Mrs.
Oliver:

"Is that usual?"

It did not escape me that the unhappy woman was constantly studying her
husband's face, and when he glanced up at her with a meaning look she
answered, hurriedly:

"Oh yes, ma'am, quite usual. All the women in the Row has it. Number
five, she has twins and gets a month in hand with both of them. But
we'll take four weeks and I can't say no fairer than that, can I?"

"But why?" I asked.

"Well, you see, ma'am, you're . . . you're a stranger to us, and if baby
was left on our hands . . . Not as we think you'd leave her chargeable
as the saying is, but if you were ever ill, and got a bit back with your
payments . . . we being only pore people. . . ."

While the poor woman was floundering on in this way my blood was boiling
and I was beginning to ask her if she supposed for one moment that I
meant to desert my child, when the man, who had finished the lacing of
his boots, ros