There was not the slightest need for Mrs Hexton to perform such a duty as this, but she had darned her husband's stockings when they were poor people, and she could not easily give up her old habits when they were comparatively rich. And now, as she ran the long, glistening needle in and out amongst the worsted threads, her husband sat back in his chair and said it was absurd; but all the same, as he watched her with half-closed eyes, he thought what a good woman she was, and how happy it made him to think that she was not in the slightest degree spoiled by prosperity, while he fervently prayed that she might continue as she was to the end. Then, as he sank back lower and lower, thinking how earnestly his son had set about his task of reforming and improving the matters in the mine, he began to recall the terrible accidents that had happened at their pit, and at those in the neighbourhood. It would be a grand thing, he thought, if Philip, with his fresh and earnest mind and his knowledge, could do something to lessen the dangers of the pitman's life; though he rather trembled for the result, knowing as he did how hard it is to get over old prejudices. Then all became very misty and strange; and to his blurred eyesight it seemed as if Mrs Hexton's grey stocking-covered hand got itself mixed up with her head, and her head appeared to be mixed up with the copper kettle on the hob, and then it was his wife who was singing like the tea-kettle, and then all was blank till he started up wide awake, for there was a noise at the door, and Mrs Hexton immediately began to make the tea. "Have I been asleep, mother?" said Mr Hexton. "Hallo, Phil! back again?" "Why, father--mother!" exclaimed the young man, "why haven't you both gone to bed?" "I thought you'd find a cup of tea so refreshing," said the old lady briskly; and, waiting till it had stood long enough, she poured out a cup, placed a pair of slippers a little more in front of the fire, her work in a basket, and ended by kissing her son and saying good-night. He followed her to the door, where she laughingly turned round and bade Mr Hexton make haste up, kissed her son once more, and left him with his father. "Nice to be you, Phil," said the latter. "Oh, she has left out two cups! I'll have a cup of tea with you." This he took, and then, as father and son sat together, the latter was the first to speak. "I've had rather a scene to-night, father," he said. "Scene! What! Not an accident?" said Mr Hexton, nearly upsetting his tea in his excitement. "No, father, no accident; but the pit was so foul to-night that I believe if I had not interfered the place would have fired." "They will do it, Phil; they will do it," said Mr Hexton, as soon as his son had finished his narration. "I've tried all I know to stop it, but they'll run any risk, especially if they've tried the same thing before without accident."