hungry."
"Hungry, child," said I; "then why did you not ask me before you went to
bed?" "Because, father, I knew there was no bread. When mother sent me
to get a loaf this morning at the grocer's, Mrs. Mason said our last
month's bill had not yet been settled, and she could not trust any more;
and so we have only had a few potatoes. When mother went out to look for
work, she promised to bring a loaf home very early." "Why, Jane," said
I, "this is a new story--what, is there nothing at all in the house?"
"No, father, nothing; and that is not all, father; mother cried this
morning about it when she went out; and though she never uses bad words,
said something about cursed drink: she said she should be back before
dark, and it has now been dark a long time, and hark, how it rains."

The fire flickered up a little, and at this moment the latch of the door
clicked; I peeped up through the gloom, a pang of conscious shame
stealing through my frame; but it was not my wife, as I of course
supposed--it was Mrs. Mason. I was surprised and confused. "Where is
your wife, James?" said she, in a mild, firm tone. "Is that mother?"
said my child again, in a rather sleepy tone; "I am so glad you are
come, I am so hungry." "That child," said I, "has gone to bed without
her supper to-night," fumbling about at the same time upon the
mantel-piece for a bit of candle, which I could not find. "Yes," said
Mrs. Mason, very gravely, "and without its dinner too, I fear; but where
is your wife, James? for I am come to see whether she brought any thing
home with her for herself and family; for I could not feel comfortable
after I had refused your child a loaf this morning, just as I know the
refusal was." I now stammered out something about "sorry," and
"ashamed," and "bad times." "But where _is_ your wife, James?" "She is,
perhaps, at neighbor Wright's," said I, briskly, glad to catch an
opportunity of a minute's retreat from my present awkward position;
"I'll just step and see. Jane, get up, child." "No, James," said Mrs.
Mason, in a tone not to be misunderstood; "no, James, I wish she was
sitting by their comfortable fireside; I called in there just now, as I
came along, to pay a little bill, and they spoke very kindly of your
wife, and hoped she might be enabled to rub through this winter--but I
will call again in half an hour: Mary will have come home, I hope, by
that time."

The door closed upon her, and I remained in a kind of half stupor;