granp is!
Oh, I expect he was in a dreadful way when he came home, and heard
what had happened!" and at the thought poor Jessie's tears
overflowed, and she sobbed bitterly.

"Hush, don't make that noise," said her stepmother quickly, but not
unkindly. "Be quiet, child, your father's coming, and he'll beat you
if you go on like that. Oh, it's you, Tom," as a young man lounged
heavily into the kitchen, "I thought 'twas Harry."

Tom Salter dropped into a chair by the table with a tired yawn.
"Yes, it's me; I'm up, but I ain't awake," he said, with a laugh.
"Hullo," as he caught sight of Jessie, "is this the little girl you
was telling me about?"

"Yes, this is Jessie."

He looked at Jessie and smiled, and she smiled back. He had a
good-tempered face and kind eyes, and she thought she should like
him.

"Bit tired, I expect?"

"Yes, thank you, I am," said Jessie shyly.

"Hullo, missis, been having a spring clean?" he asked comically, as
he glanced about him. "The place looks so tidy I hardly knew it."

Mrs. Lang looked half annoyed. "New brooms sweep clean," she said
shortly, "and two pairs of hands can do what one can't."

"That's true," said the young man soothingly. "I don't know how you
ever managed to get through it all by yourself."

Mrs. Lang looked mollified. "It would have been all right if Harry
would have lent a hand now and then," she said, "but he won't even
clean his own boots, let alone any one else's; while as for bringing
in a scuttle of coal, or going an errand, or putting a spade near the
garden, he'd think himself disgraced for ever if he did either.
Disgraced! He!" with a bitter laugh, and the meaning in her voice
should have made her self-satisfied husband feel very small--if
anything could have that effect on him.

Just at that moment heavy footsteps were heard approaching and
conversation ceased.

"Here's your father coming," said Mrs. Lang in a lowered tone to
Jessie. Then, as she stooped down to the oven to get out the dish of
bacon for him, "We won't have ours now," she whispered to Jessie;
"you and me'll have ours after they're gone, when there's a little
peace and quietness," and Jessie, in spite of her hunger, which was
making her feel quite sick and faint, felt glad.

"While you are waiting will you run up and talk to Charlie?" she
asked kindly, for she saw Jessie's dread of her father, which was
only too plainly written on her face.

"Who is Charlie?" Jessie asked,