So, after eating her bread, Susie took out her work, sitting upon the low stool, with the blanket of the bed wrapped round her, for it was bitterly cold this morning, and they had no fire. They had been afraid to buy coals or wood, as they could not make up the rent. This was Susie's great anxiety this morning. What the landlord would say, she did not know. He was a gruff, cross man; and Susie dreaded his visit—sat trembling with fear at the thought of hearing him come up the stairs; and again and again lifted her heart in asking that they might not be turned out of their home. CHAPTER IV. ELFIE'S SIXPENCE. SUSIE'S suspense as to the result of the landlord's visit came to an end sooner than she expected. He called earlier than usual to-day, and the poor girl's last faint hope that Elfie would be able to earn twopence and get back before he came was cut off as she heard his halting footsteps coming up the stairs. He knocked at the opposite door first, and Susie hoped he would be detained there, and she crept to the top of the stairs and looked over, in the hope of seeing Elfie coming up. But Elfie was not to be seen; and with a sinking heart, Susie went back and took down the tin box, and then sat down to her work again, waiting for the door to open and Elfie to come in, for somehow she had persuaded herself that she would come in yet. But in a minute or two, the opposite door closed, and then there was a knock at her own. Susie could hardly walk across the room to open it, she trembled so violently. "Good morning," said the landlord pleasantly, as he stepped in and looked round the room. "You keep the place nice and clean," he said approvingly. "But why don't you have a fire, child? It's cold to-day, and you sitting at your sewing." "Yes, sir," said Susie meekly, glancing at the empty grate, and hardly knowing how to tell him she had not been able to make up the rent. "You ought to have a fire," went on the man, not noticing her confusion, and wishing to say something kind to the poor little orphan. "You ought to have a fire this cold day; every other room in the house has one." "Have they, sir?" said Susie, thinking the man was displeased. "I'm very sorry I can't get one too; but I don't think the place will get damp—we have one sometimes." "The place get damp!" repeated the landlord. "What do you mean, child?" "Please, sir, I thought you was afraid the room would spoil," said Susie, still dreading to make the revelation that she had only tenpence of the rent. "Spoil!" repeated the man. And he looked round on the patched, discoloured walls, and laughed. "Why, child, you keep your room nicer than any other in the house. I was thinking you must be cold." "I don't mind that much, sir, if I can only stay here," said Susie; "but—but please, sir, I've only got tenpence of the rent to-day. I hope you won't turn us out for the other twopence. I'll try and pay it next week, sir," she added.