Her face lit up in a moment, and she came forward eagerly. "I'm so glad you've come," she said, "I can't quite manage this." She pointed to the thread regulator, and the next minute I was showing her that it was too tight, and somehow, in a gentle timid way, the little witch quite got over me, and I stopped there two hours helping her, till her eyes sparkled with delight, as she found out how easily she could now make the needle dart in and out of some hard material. "Do you think you can do it now?" I said. "Oh, yes, I think so; I am so glad you came." "So am I," says I gruffly; "it will make it all the easier for you to earn the money, and pay for it." "And I will work so hard," she said earnestly. "That you will, my dear," I says in spite of myself, for I felt sure it wasn't me speaking, but something in me. "She been ill long?" I said, nodding towards her mother. "Months," she said, with the tears starting in her pretty eyes; "but," she added brightly, "I shall have enough with this to get her good medicines and things she can fancy;" and as I looked at her, something in me said-- "God bless you, my dear! I hope you will;" and the next minute I was going downstairs, calling myself an old fool. They thought I didn't know at home, but I did. There was the wife going over and over again to Bennett's Place; and all sorts of little nice things were made and taken there. I often used to see them talking about it, but I took no notice; and that artful scoundrel, my boy Luke, used to pay the half-crown every week out of his own pocket, after pretending to go and fetch it from the widow's. And all the time I told myself I didn't like it, for I could see that Luke was changed, and always thinking of that girl--a girl not half good enough for him. I remembered being poor myself, and I hated poverty, and I used to speak harshly to Luke and the wife, and feel very bitter. At last came an afternoon when I knew there was something wrong. The wife had gone out directly after dinner, saying she was going to see a sick woman--I knew who it was, bless you!--and Luke was fidgeting about, not himself; and at last he took his hat and went out. "They might have confided in me," I said bitterly, but all the time I knew that I wouldn't let them. "They'll be spending money--throwing it away. I know they've spent pounds on them already." At last I got in such a way that I called down our foreman, left him in charge, and took my hat and went after them. Everything was very quiet in Bennett's Place, for a couple of dirty dejected-looking women, one of whom was in arrears to me, had sent the children that played in the court right away because of the noise, and were keeping guard so that they should not come back. I went up the stairs softly, and all was very still, only as I got nearer to the room I could hear a bitter wailing cry, and then I opened the door gently and went in.