Jared doubled the letter again very carefully, so as to hit the right folds, replaced it in the envelope, and handed it to his wife, who had the pleasure of taking it out and reading it, when Jared saw a tear fall upon the paper, and make a huge blot, turning the sheet of a darker colour as it soaked in. Tears breed tears, and two bright drops sprang to Patty's eyes as she thought of her own sorrows, of the troubles overhanging the Brownjohn Street house, and the way in which poor Janet was suffering. Then came thoughts of Harry Clayton; at times soft tender thoughts, at times those of indignation; and she told herself that he could not love her, or he would never have been ashamed to own her before his friends. Did she love him? She asked herself the question, and replied to it with burning cheeks that she thought she did;--no, she was sure that she loved him very, very much. Oh I how gladly would the poor girl have gone up-stairs, and thrown herself upon her bed, to have a long, long, girlish cry. "Would not Richard lend you a few sovereigns?" said Mrs Jared to her husband in a whisper. "No, no; don't, please," cried Jared, in a supplicating voice. "Anything but that." For in an instant he had conjured up the figure of his angry brother, and his disgrace. That brother calling him villain, thief, and scoundrel; upbraiding him once more for bringing disgrace upon the name so honoured amongst the money-changers of the great temple of commerce. "You know how I have asked him before, and what has been his reply. I can't do it again. But there!" he said, in as cheerful a tone as he could command, "don't fidget; things will come right. They always do, if you give them time enough; only we are such a hurried race of beings, and we get worse now there are steam-engines and telegraphs to work for us." To have seen Jared then, it might have been supposed that he was in the best of spirits, for he began to hum scraps of airs, beginning with "Pergolesi," and ending with "Jim Crow." Having no work of his own, he attended to the fire, to clear away its dulness; but he never well succeeded, for the coals were small, and the stock very low. Then he nursed the baby for ten minutes; in short, he tried every possible plan to raise the bitter temperature of the place. "Let it come in its own good time," he muttered; "there's no occasion for them to meet the trouble half-way." Six different times, though, was Jared at that window, watching, with beating heart, figures dimly seen through the grating bars--figures which had slackened pace, or stopped, as if about to call. Once Jared turned with a deceptive smile, declaring that an old gentleman had passed, so like the vicar that he was not even sure that it was not he gone by in mistake.