aid, "is she dead?"

"Yes--all of a sudden--the 'art done it--I know'd she was weak there.
Poor dear--and her husband such a bad 'un too, and they do say she was
be'ind with her rent."

So the woman chattered on, and when at last she went, Jeffreys glanced
at his two unconscious charges and went on writing. No, he could not
leave Storr Alley.

In the morning, as usual, he performed their little toilets, and
announced to the elder that his mother was gone away, and they might
stay upstairs. Whereat the little orphan was merry, and executed a
caper on the bare floor.

A fresh dilemma faced the newly made father. He must work if he and his
family were to eat. The thirty shillings he had earned last week could
not last for ever. Indeed, the neighbours all seemed to take it for
granted he would see to Mrs Pratt's burial; and how could he do
otherwise? That meant a decided pull on his small resources. For a day
or two he might live on his capital, and after that--

He put off that uncomfortable speculation. The baby began loudly to
demand its morning meal; and the three-year-old, having run through its
mirth, began to whimper for its mother. Altogether Jeffreys had a busy
time of it.

So busy that when, about mid-day, Tim, who had been perched upon a box
at the window to amuse himself at the peril of his neck by looking out
into the court below, suddenly exclaimed--"There she is!" he bounded
from his seat like one electrified, and for the first time realised that
_she_ might come and find him!

There was barely a chance of escape. She had already entered the house;
and he became aware of the little flutter which usually pervaded the
crowded tenement when she set foot in it. She had many families to
visit, and each grudged her to the next. The women had yards of trouble
to unroll to her sympathy; and the children besieged her for stories and
songs. The sick lifted their heads as they heard her foot on the steps;
and even the depraved and vicious and idle set their doors ajar to get a
glimpse of her as she passed.

What could he do? Wait and face her, and perhaps meet her look of
scorn, or worse still, of forgiveness? or hide from her? He debated the
question till he heard her enter the chamber of death below.

Then there came over him a vision of her as he had last seen her that
October afternoon with Scarfe in Regent's Park. With a groan he
gathered together his papers, and bidding Tim mind the baby