Jane trusted that she might;—would not let his chamber be disarranged just at present; and went to her place of business to start at every black coat that passed the window. CHAPTER III. DEATH-CHAMBER SOOTHINGS. Mr. Farrer seemed to be somewhat surprised to see that Henry’s coat was still black and still glossy when he called, as he promised, to see his family. A vague image of a tattered shirt, a wallet and mouldy crusts, had floated before the old man’s mind as often as he prophesied that Harry would come begging to his father’s door; whereas Henry seemed to have nothing to complain of, did not ask for anything to eat, never mentioned money, and looked very cheerful. It was impossible to pronounce him paler than usual; and, what was more surprising, he made no mysteries, but told all that he was asked to tell. Nobody inquired whether he was married, and none but Jane desired to know where he lived. But the circumstance of his having obtained employment that would suffice for the present was related; and he endeavoured to explain to his father the nature of the literary occupations in which he was engaged; but when he had once acknowledged that they did not bring him in so much per week as his brother’s labours afforded, Mr. Farrer did not desire to hear anything more. “Jane, you will come and see me?” said Henry, when they were alone. “My father says you had better come here.” “Well, so I shall; but you will look in upon me some day? I have something to show you.” “Perhaps you can bring it here. My father——” “Oh, he forbids your visiting me. Yes, I shall certainly come here, and soon. Do you know, Jane, I think my father looks ill.” “He is harassed about business just now;—not about the part you have taken; for he said yesterday that people are better out of business in such times.” “What is the matter? Does his custom fall off?” “Very much; and his profits are less and less. Everything is so taxed,— everything that the common people must have,—(and they are the customers that signify most, from their number)—that they go without tea and sugar, and save in soap and candles more than you would suppose; and besides, all this dearness makes wages rise every where; and we feel that directly in the fall of our profits. If things get much worse, we shall soon be laying by nothing. It will be as much as we can do to make the year’s gains answer the year’s expenses.” “That will be a very bad thing if it comes to be the case of the whole nation, Jane: but I do not think that my father and you need mind it,—so much as you have both accumulated. It is a bad state of things, however. Have you seen Dr. Say about my father?” “Why, no. I think that he would be alarmed at my mentioning such a thing; and as I know his ailments to be from an uneasy mind——However, I will watch him, and if he does not get better——But he looks particularly ill to-day.” “He does indeed.”