Septimus Hardon had stood at his window watching the proceedings, as he slowly wiped again and again his pen upon a coat-tail; for the scene brought up a sad day in Carey-street, and he could not but recall the bright-eyed, yellow-haired child he had lost, and this set him thinking of the little one up-stairs in Lucy's charge. But Septimus Hardon never thought very long upon any one particular subject; and, sighing deeply, he returned to his writing, while the people in the court slowly flocked back to form groups and talk until such time as it was necessary to get "master's tea." There was a considerable amount of thirst engendered though, and the public-houses at the top and bottom of the court must have done quite a powerful stroke, of trade that day in cream-gin and pine-apple rum; for the dull soft bang of the strapped-back doors was heard incessantly. For now, _a la militaire_, people's feelings seemed to undergo a reaction; children played and hooted again unabashed; the organ-man played the Olga waltz to a select circle of youthful dancers, while admiring mammas looked on and smiled; a party of "nigger" serenaders arrived at the lower public-house, and played and sang for a full hour, the coppers rattling in the reversed banjo freely, after the fortunes of the celebrated Old Bob Ridley had been musically rendered by a melodious gentleman of intense blackness, who had thrummed the wires of his instrument until his fingers were worn white. Then, too, after the departure of the sable minstrels, a lady volunteered a song; but she sang not, for an interdict was placed upon the proceedings by the landlord, who "couldn't stand none o' that, now." Then an altercation ensued, which ended in an adjournment, and the voluble declaration of some half-dozen departing matrons that they'd have no more to do with the goose-club. But Mrs Sims was not there. Ten minutes after the starting of the shabby funeral she went up to Septimus Hardon's rooms to fetch the little girl, but had to ascend to the attic, where she found her leaning against Lucy, who was seated upon the floor, laughing at the little thing's delight as first one and then the other of the poodles stood up and carried a stick in its mouth, while the dark eyes of Jean were fixed upon the beautiful group before him, ardently though with a speechless admiration.