“There are so many calls upon one, you see, ma’am; and those that have large families,—(what a noise those boys do make!)—so much is required for a large family like ours, that it is no easy matter to bring up children as some people do in these days. The burdens are so great! and I am sure we could never think of sending a son of ours to the university, if we were sure of his settling ever so well.—O, to be sure, as you would say, ma’am, that should make no difference in our helping Henry, hoping he would not get into any such scrapes again. Well, ma’am, I will ask Mr. Peek when he comes home, to see if anything can be done.— O, that would be too late, would it? Well, I don’t know that that signifies so much, for I have a notion that as Mr. Peek is a king’s servant, it might not be so well for him to appear. Dear me! I never have any money by me, ma’am, but just for my little bills for the family; and I should not think of parting with it while my husband is out.—Why, really, I have no idea where you could find him. My little girl shall see whether he is at home, though I am quite sure he is not. Grace, my dear, go and see whether your father is in the back room. O, you won’t. Then, Jenny, you must go. There! you see they won’t go, ma’am; but it is of no consequence, for I do assure you he went out after breakfast. I saw him go. Did not you, Harry?” “To dare to call one of their dirty, rude boys after my Henry!” thought Marie, as she ran out of the house. Mrs. Peek stood looking after her, wondering one thing and another about her, till the baby cried so loud that she could not put off attending to him any longer. Marie could think of no further resource but to go back to Morgan for advice. She was now very weary, and parched with thirst. She was not accustomed to much exercise, and had never before walked alone through crowded streets; her restless and anxious night was also a bad preparation for so much toil. She was near sinking at once when, on returning to the shop, she found from Sam that Morgan had just gone out, he did not know whither. “She could not go out with me!” thought Marie. “My Henry is the only English person worthy to be French, after all.” “Sure, mistress, you had better sit down,” observed Sam, wiping a stool with his apron. On being asked whether he could let her have a glass of water, he did more than fulfil the request. He found, in a dark place under the counter, part of a bottle of some delicious syrup, which he mixed with water, with something of the grace of an apothecary. Marie could not help enjoying it, miserable as she was; and Sam could not help smiling broadly at the effect of what he had done, grave as his demeanour was in duty bound to be this day. Morgan’s “but” proved one of the most significant words she had ever spoken. She did better than go with Marie. She entered Jane’s parlour, and stood beside the door when she had closed it. “I must trouble you, ma’am, to pay me my wages, if you please.”