great service; he lent me what was a large sum for him in those days--'

'Not a little one even in these, Mr. Cheeseman,' remarked Mrs. Hood.

'Well, well, but in those times it was a thing few men in his position
would have done. He lent me a ten-pound note, Miss Hood, and it's right
you should know it. Years have gone by, years, and any one would think
I'd kept out of the way to avoid paying the money back. I assure you,
Mrs. Hood, and to you, Miss Hood, I give my solemn word of honour, that
I've never from that day to this had more money than would just keep me
in bread and cheese and such poor clothing as this you see on me. Why,
even yesterday, as no doubt your good father has told you, I had but a
sixpenny-piece in the world, but one coin of sixpence. Ah, you may well
look sad, my good young lady. Please God, you'll never know what that
means. But one sixpence had I, and but for my old friend I should have
been hard driven to find a place of rest last night. Now do I look and
speak like an ungrateful man? Mrs. Hood, I've come here this day because
I felt in duty bound to call on you, being so near. I didn't know your
address, till that meeting by chance yesterday. When my old friend left
me, I got restless; I felt I must see you all again before I went south,
as I hope to do--to-morrow, perhaps. I felt I must clear myself from the
charge of in gratitude; I couldn't live easy under it. It was too much
like a piece of dishonesty, and that I've never yet been guilty of, for
all I've gone through, and, please God, never shall. My old friend Hood
and I, in days even before he had the happiness to meet you, Mrs. Hood,
we used to say to each other--Let luck do its worst, we'll live and die
honest men. And, thank heaven, we've kept our word; for an honester man
than James Hood doesn't walk the earth, and no one ever yet brought a
true charge of dishonesty against Alfred Cheeseman.'

He looked from mother to daughter. The former sat in helpless
astonishment, gazing about her; Emily had hardened her face.

'You find it a sad tale,' Cheeseman proceeded. 'Why, so it is, dear
ladies. If ever I had owned a ten-pound note, over and above the price
of a loaf of bread and a night's lodging, it should have been put aside
with the name of James Hood written on the back of it, and somehow I'd
have found him out. And I say the same thing now. Don't think, Mrs.
Hood, that I'm pleading my poverty as a way of asking you to forgive the