an't write, Jack. He has lost his talent.'

'That's all bosh, Amy. If a fellow has once got into the swing of it he
can keep it up if he likes. He might write his two novels a year easily
enough, just like twenty other men and women. Look here, I could do it
myself if I weren't too lazy. And that's what's the matter with Reardon.
He doesn't care to work.'

'I have thought that myself;' observed Mrs Yule. 'It really is too
ridiculous to say that he couldn't write some kind of novels if he
chose. Look at Miss Blunt's last book; why, anybody could have written
that. I'm sure there isn't a thing in it I couldn't have imagined
myself.'

'Well, all I want to know is, what's Amy going to do if things don't
alter?'

'She shall never want a home as long as I have one to share with her.'

John's natural procedure, when beset by difficulties, was to find
fault with everyone all round, himself maintaining a position of
irresponsibility.

'It's all very well, mother, but when a girl gets married she takes her
husband, I have always understood, for better or worse, just as a man
takes his wife. To tell the truth, it seems to me Amy has put herself in
the wrong. It's deuced unpleasant to go and live in back streets, and
to go without dinner now and then, but girls mustn't marry if they're
afraid to face these things.'

'Don't talk so monstrously, John!' exclaimed his mother. 'How could Amy
possibly foresee such things? The case is quite an extraordinary one.'

'Not so uncommon, I assure you. Some one was telling me the other day of
a married lady--well educated and blameless--who goes to work at a shop
somewhere or other because her husband can't support her.'

'And you wish to see Amy working in a shop?'

'No, I can't say I do. I'm only telling you that her bad luck isn't
unexampled. It's very fortunate for her that she has good-natured
relatives.'

Amy had taken a seat apart. She sat with her head leaning on her hand.

'Why don't you go and see Reardon?' John asked of his mother.

'What would be the use? Perhaps he would tell me to mind my own
business.'

'By jingo! precisely what you would be doing. I think you ought to see
him and give him to understand that he's behaving in a confoundedly
ungentlemanly way. Evidently he's the kind of fellow that wants stirring
up. I've half a mind to go and see him myself. Where is this slum that
he's gone to live in?'

'We don't know his address yet.'

'So long as it's not t