"As sure as your name's Molly, it was white satin," repeated Joe; "I wouldn't have belaived it av I hadn't seen it; but that's the way the quality goes to their graves. I looks at the two coffins as I was comin' away, an' thinks I to myself, I wonder whether the poor man or the rich man'll be most comfortable when they're laid there?" "Now, Molly, I'll bid ye good-night an' be off to see this owld lady, this Mrs Denman. Look afther that boy, now, an kape the matches out of his way, whativer ye do." With this very needful warning, Joe Corney kissed his wife and the baby, and went off to the station to obtain leave of absence for a couple of hours. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. JOE CORNEY'S ADVICE. Wending his way through the crowded streets, Joe soon reached the door of the house in Russell Square which belonged to Mrs Denman. The good lady had made use of a cab after quitting Miss Deemas, so that she was at home and seated in a luxuriously easy chair in her splendidly furnished drawing-room when the fireman applied the knocker. "Does Mrs Denman stop here, my dear?" said Joe to the smart servant-girl who opened the door. "Yes," replied the girl, "and she told me to show you up to the drawing-room whenever you came. Step this way." Joe pulled off his cap and followed the maid, who ushered him into the presence of the little old lady. "Pray take a chair," said Mrs Denman, pointing to one which had evidently been placed close to hers on purpose. "You are a fireman, I understand?" "Yes, ma'am," replied Joe, "I've bin more nor tin years at the business now." "You must find it a very warm business, I should imagine," said Mrs Denman, with a smile. "True for ye, ma'am. My body's bin a'most burnt off my sowl over and over again; but it's cowld enough, too, sometimes, specially when ye've got to watch the premises after the fire's bin put out of a cowld winter night, as I had to do at _your_ house, ma'am." Mrs Denman started and turned pale. "What! d'you mean to say that you were at the fire in--in Holborn that night?" "Indeed I do, ma'am. Och! but ye must be ill, ma'am, for yer face is as white as a ghost. Shure but it's _red_ now. Let me shout for some wather for ye, ma'am." "No, no, my good man," said Mrs Denman, recovering herself a little. "I--I--the fact is, it did not occur to me that you had been at _that_ fire, else I would never--but no matter. You didn't see--see--any one saved, did you?" "See any one saved, is it? Shure, I did, an' yerself among the lot. Och! but it's Frank Willders as knows how to do a thing nately. He brought ye out o' the windy, ma'am, on his showlder as handy as if ye'd bin a carpet-bag, or a porkmanty, ma'am--" "Hush, _man_!" exclaimed poor Mrs Denman, blushing scarlet, for she was a very sensitive old lady; "I cannot bear to think of it. But how could--you know it was me? _It--it--might_ have been anything--a bundle, you know."