The saucy manner of the lad did not anger Routh; he hardly seemed to notice it, but appeared to be entirely possessed by some struggling remembrance not of a pleasing kind, if his expression afforded any correct clue to it. "Have you seen a lady come out of No. 60 since you have been about here?" he asked, passing by the boy's saucy remarks as if he had not heard them. "Yes, I have. I saw the lady as lives there, not two minutes after you came in. She went that way." And he pointed down the street. "Had she anything in her hand? Did she look as if she was going for a walk, or out shopping?" "She hadn't no basket or bag, and she warn't partickler dressed; not as nice as she's dressed sometimes. I _should_ say," continued Mr. Jim Swain, with an air of wisdom and decision, "as she was going for a constitootional, all by herself, and not to shop nor nothin'." Routh's attention had wandered from the boy's words, and was fixed upon his face. "Have I ever seen you before?" he asked him, abruptly. A sudden rush of colour dyed Mr. James Swain's face, even, through the varnish of dirt which hid its surface, as he replied, with a little less than his customary boldness: "Yes, sir, you've seen me, though in course you ain't likely to remember it. You've giv' me many a penny, and a sixpence too, and the lady." Again Routh looked steadily, but covertly, at him under his thick brows. He was evidently eager to ask him some question, but he refrained, restrained by some powerful motive. Jim looked uneasily up and down the street, moved his feet about restlessly, turned his ragged pockets inside out, letting loose a multitude of dirty crumbs, and displayed a fidgety inclination to get away from South Molton-street. "Well," said Routh, rousing himself from his abstraction, "we're going to move next week, and you can come and do the odd jobs for us, if you like." "Thankee, sir," said Jim, who was very respectful now, and touched his ragged cap as if he had quite altered his opinion of the speaker. "What day shall I come, sir?" "I don't exactly know," said Routh; "you can call and ask the lady." And then he gave the lad a shilling, to Jim Swain's intense surprise, and, crossing the street, once more let himself in at the door of No. 60. Having reached the sitting-room, Stewart Routh sat down by the window and fell into a fit of musing as deep as those in which Harriet Routh passed hours away. Mr. James Swain went briskly down the street, pleasantly conscious that the unexpected windfall of the shilling had released him from the labours of his calling for the day, and determined to proceed at once to lay it out to the greatest advantage. "Wotever is he up to _now?_" Thus ran the street-boy's thoughts. "I'm sure he's jealous, or he wouldn't be coming home unexpected, and a watchin' of her like that. Ain't he a brute just? And a willin too? Well, I'm glad I ain't _sure_--I'm very glad I ain't sure."