Amidst these ancient surroundings the last of the care-takers, old Mr. and Mrs. Barley, moved and starved. One can imagine them creeping up the wide staircases, and tottering about the rooms, living ghosts, clinging to each other for support (they were both past seventy, and chronically weak from want of proper nourishment), wondering whether they had not reached the dead world upon the brink of which they stood. There came a hard winter, and a fall of snow which lasted intermittently, but pretty steadily, nevertheless, for a full fort-night. It was during this winter that an incident occurred in the career of the last of the care-takers. Said a gossip to a kindred heart, trudging through the snow at least a hundred yards for the purpose, "My man, coming home from work last night, passed the gates of Parksides." "He does always, doesn't he?" was the response, evincing in the querist an ungracious spirit, for Gossip Number Two was aware that her neighbour had not walked ankle-deep in the coldest of carpets to impart this information. "Yes, he does always, when he doesn't go another way." "What other way?" "The way of the Hog in the Pound." (For comprehension to uninformed minds, a public-house.) "That's the way he likes best," observed Gossip Number Two, still with the ungracious spirit upon her. "_You_ needn't boast," said Gossip Number One; "your man leaves half his wages there." "Yes; worse luck! But what about Parksides?" "He saw a woman going in." "Old Mrs. Barley?" "No; a youngish woman, looking like a beggar, with a boy holding on to her." "A tramp! The Barleys can't help her--can't help themselves." "She asked my man whether that was Parksides, and whether a married couple of the name of Barley lived there. 'Lives there!' says my man to her. 'Starves there, would be nearer the truth.' The woman gave a sigh, and passed into the grounds." "Is that all?" asked Gossip Number Two, disappointed in a story so bare of incident. "That's all," replied Gossip Number One. "Leastways it's all my man told me." "It ain't much." "No, it ain't. But," added Gossip Number One, cheerfully illogical, her temperament being livelier than that of her neighbour, "what can we expect in such weather? Just look how the snow's coming down again!"