e
Bill's attic all to yourself. She has but one other lad at home: it's
worth trying for."

"It is indeed. You are very kind, Phineas." He said no more words
than these--but their tone spoke volumes.

I got into my little carriage again, for I was most anxious not to lose
a day in this matter. I persuaded John to go at once with me to Sally
Watkins. My father was not to be seen; but I ventured to leave word
for him that I was gone home, and had taken John Halifax with me: it
was astonishing how bold I felt myself growing, now that there was
another beside myself to think and act for.

We reached Widow Watkins' door. It was a poor place--poorer than I had
imagined; but I remembered what agonies of cleanliness had been
inflicted on me in nursery days; and took hope for John.

Sally sat in her kitchen, tidy and subdued, mending an old jacket that
had once been Bill's, until, being supplanted by the grand red coat, it
descended upon Jem, the second lad. But Bill still engrossed the poor
mother's heart--she could do nothing but weep over him, and curse
"Bonyparty." Her mind was so full of this that she apparently failed
to recognise in the decent young workman, John Halifax, the
half-starved lad she had belaboured with her tongue in the alley. She
consented at once to his lodging with her--though she looked up with an
odd stare when I said he was "a friend" of mine.

So we settled our business, first all together, then Sally and I alone,
while John went up to look at his room. I knew I could trust Sally,
whom I was glad enough to help, poor woman! She promised to make him
extra-comfortable, and keep my secret too. When John came down she was
quite civil to him--even friendly.

She said it would really be a comfort to her, that another fine,
strapping lad should sleep in Bill's bed, and be coming in and out of
her house just like her poor dear boy.

I felt rather doubtful of the resemblance, and indeed half-angry, but
John only smiled.

"And if, maybe, he'd do a hand's turn now and then about the kitchen--I
s'pose he bean't above it?"

"Not a bit!" said John Halifax, pleasantly.

Before we left I wanted to see his room; he carried me up, and we both
sat down on the bed that had been poor Bill's. It was nothing to boast
of, being a mere sacking stuffed with hay--a blanket below, and another
at top; I had to beg from Jael the only pair of sheets John owned for a
long time. The attic was very low an