Had he told the exact truth, he would have confessed that he had no idea of coming into the house until he heard from old Ben Sparrow, at whose shop he had called, that Bessie was at Mrs. Naldret's, and that, meeting George afterwards, he had walked with him to the door, and had accepted a casual invitation to walk in, given out of mere politeness, and almost as a matter of form. 'You have the _Trumpet_ there, I see,' continues young Mr. Million, addressing the master of the house; 'is there anything particular in it?' 'No, sir,' replies Jim, 'nothing but the usual things--strikes, elections, and that like. There's always plenty stirring to fill a newspaper.' 'That there is,' says the young brewer; 'I'm sorry to hear of the strikes spreading. They make things bad in every way.' 'That they do, sir,' chimes in Mrs. Naldret; 'let well alone, I say.' Young Mr. Million assents with a motion of his head. Perhaps he would have spoken if his attention had not been fixed upon Bessie, whom George has drawn within the circle of his arm. 'Women can't be expected,' says Jim Naldret, with rather less politeness than he usually shows to his wife in company, 'to understand the rights and wrongs of this sort of thing. It's only the horse in the shafts that feels the weight of the pull.' 'Well,' says young Mr. Million in a careless manner, 'I'm no politician; I leave that to my father. So, without venturing an opinion in the presence of one who has studied these questions'--with a condescending nod to Jim Naldret--'I can't do better than side with Mrs. Naldret, and say with her. Let well alone.' With a graceful bow to that worthy creature, who receives it without gratitude, for it does not please her to find herself trapped into taking sides with a stranger, however much of a gentleman he may be, against her husband. 'Mr. Million came to tell me,' says George during the lull that follows, clearing his throat, 'that the Queen of the South sails earlier than was expected. It goes out of the Mersey the day after to-morrow.' He does not look at any one of them as he says this, but they all, with the exception of young Mr. Million, turn their anxious eyes to George. The Queen of the South is the name of the ship in which George is to sail for the other end of the world. 'So soon!' exclaims Mrs. Naldret, with a motherly movement towards her son. 'So soon!' echoes Bessie faintly, clinging closer to her lover. And 'Why not stop at home?' is on the mother's tongue. 'Even now, why not stop at home, and be contented? But she knows what George's answer would be, so she restrains her speech. 'I want my Bessie,' he would have answered, 'and I want a home to bring her to. If I did not love her, I would not go away, but I would be content to work here as you have done all your lives, and live as you have done, from hand to mouth.'