y!"

The child hurried on with her, sobbing, and she was soon on the stairs
beside the unconscious John.

Mary Anne looked with amazement at the cupboard and the open box. Then
she laid the old man on the floor, her gentle face working with the
effort to remember what the doctor had once told her of the best way of
dealing with persons in a faint. She got water, and she sent Arthur to
a neighbour for brandy.

"Where's your mother, child?" she asked, as she despatched him.

"Don' know," repeated the boy, stupidly.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, she's never at Dawson's again!" groaned Mary
Anne to herself; "she wor there last night, an' the night afore that.
And her mother's brother lyin' like this in 'er house!"

He was so long in coming round that her ignorance began to fear the
worst. But, just as she was telling the eldest girl to put on her hat
and jacket and run for the doctor, poor John revived.

He struggled to a sitting posture, looked wildly at her and at the box.
As his eye caught the two sovereigns still lying at the bottom, he gave
a cry of rage, and got upon his feet with a mighty effort.

"Where's Bessie, I tell yer? Where's the huzzy gone? I'll have the
law on 'er! I'll make 'er give it up--by the Lord I will!"

"John, what is it? John, my dear!" cried Mary Anne, supporting him,
and terrified lest he should pitch headlong down the stairs.

"Yo' 'elp me down," he said violently. "We'll find 'er--we'll wring it
out ov 'er--the mean, thievin' vagabond! Changin' suverins, 'as she?
We'll soon know about that--yo' 'elp me down, I tell yer."

And, with her assistance, he hobbled down the stairs, hardly able to
stand. Mary Anne's eyes were starting out of her head with fear and
agitation, and the children were staring at the old man as he came
tottering into the kitchen, when a sound at the outer door made them
all turn.

The door opened, and Bessie appeared on the threshold.

At sight of her John seemed to lose his senses. He rushed at her,
threatening, imploring, reviling--while Mary Anne could only cling to
his arms and coat, lest he should attempt some bodily mischief.

Bessie closed the door, leant against it, and folded her arms. She was
white and haggard, but perfectly cool. In this moment of excitement it
struck neither John nor Mary Anne--nor, indeed, herself--that her
manner, with its brutality, and its poorly feigned surprise, was the
most revealing element in the situation.