or anything about her. She wanted only to be allowed to lie down
somewhere, anywhere, and not have to move, or speak, or even think.

When the door was at last opened she saw before her what looked like
a black pit, and that was all. Her father must have been able to see
more than she, for he swore at some one for keeping him waiting so
long, and Jessie supposed it was at an unseen person who had opened
the door to them, then he walked quickly ahead, telling Jessie to
follow him.

Follow him! How could she, when she could see nothing and did not
know where her next step would land her? She did not dare, though,
do anything but obey, so, groping blindly, and sliding her feet
carefully before her, one at a time, she crept with all the speed she
could in direction in which she thought he had gone.

"Mind the stairs," said some one behind her, and at the same moment
Jessie's foot went over the top one.

"Harry, you might have helped the child down," said the voice behind
her, more tartly, and Jessie guessed it was the door-opener who
spoke, and who was following her. Harry Lang muttered something
surlily enough, but he did pick up a lamp from somewhere, and held it
out for her to see the rest of her way by, and Jessie clambered down
the remaining stairs in comparative comfort.

"You'd better give the kid something to eat, and pack her off to bed
as soon as you can," he said. "She's pretty well fagged out, and so
am I," he added.

Jessie looked round to see to whom he was speaking, and saw standing
in the doorway a little thin woman, with a sharp, cross face, and
dull, tired eyes, eyes which looked as though they never brightened,
or lost their look of weary hopelessness. This was her stepmother.
She gave no sign of welcome, no word of comfort to the child, yet,
somehow, Jessie's heart went out to her a little. It might have been
only that in her terror of her father, she was ready to cling to any
one who might stand between her and him.

"There's bread and butter--"

"Bread and butter!" roared her husband, "is that all? Do you mean to
say you haven't got anything hot and tasty for me after all I've been
through to get this brat here, for nothing in the world but to help
you to do nothing all day long--"

"There's plenty for you," she retorted coldly. "I was speaking of
the child. I knew you wouldn't want to share yours with her," and
Harry Lang, who had stepped threateningly towards her, drew back
ag