"For she loves to hear him whistle," he would say; and then he would smile again, as the bird burst forth once more in its joyous carol. At times Lucy would ascend to the attic to take up a bunch of green food she had bought for the birds, or a few flowers for the cripple, whose eyes brightened when he saw her, but these visits were mostly paid when _ma mere_ was from home; for in spite of her civil words, there was something in the old woman's quiet smile that chilled her; so that she dreaded meeting her more than if her looks had been those of anger. But she knew not the bitter words that had passed between mother and son upon the subject, when _ma mere_ once angrily crushed a bunch of violets Lucy had taken up to the suffering youth. The sewing-machine was clicking away merrily one day, so that Mrs Jarker could hear it from her sick-bed; Septimus Hardon was busily copying at his little table, and the lark jocund as ever, when a slow step was heard upon the stairs. Lucy stopped her machine to listen, and even Septimus raised his head from his work. But there was no mistake-- it was not a visitor for up-stairs, but old Matt's own shuffling footstep, and Lucy run to admit him. Paler, thinner, more haggard, he came slowly into the room, rubbing his hands and smiling with pleasure at the warmth of the greeting he received. "Never better," he said; "capital, thank you; been ill, though, and not able to get out before, though I was afraid you would get all the work done without me. What have you done since I saw you, sir?" "Nothing," said Septimus quietly. "Didn't expect you had," said Matt drily. "No offence, sir; but I thought perhaps you might want me; so if you'll get your hat, sir, we'll start at the point where we left off, and see after the doctor." "But you will not be well enough," said Septimus, hanging back from the task--more on his own account than on that of the old man. "Don't you be afraid of that, sir. I should have been well weeks ago if it hadn't been for fidgeting about your affairs, and wanting to get out. I'm as strong as a lion now, sir; but let's be at it. I want a new suit of clothes out of the estate, you know, sir, when you get it;" and the old man chuckled and nodded at Lucy. Septimus slowly wiped his pen, and carefully put away his paper, sighing the while, for he was unwilling to start, and the fit of eagerness had long ago evaporated; but at last he declared himself to be in readiness, and the pair once more started off upon their search. Upon this occasion they directed their steps at once to Finsbury, and, after a slow, and what seemed to Matt a painful, walk, they reached their destination. "Here is the house," said Septimus, after a reference to his pocket-book; "this is the number." "H'm!--`Tollicks' Registry Office for Servants,'" read Matt from the board over the door. "This isn't the doctor's. Sure of the number, sir?"