"They have the run of the place," she said. "In a big place like this 'tis impossible, however careful you may be, not to have odds and ends and a little waste; the children eat up the odds and ends. Yes; I suppose they could be kept here for five shillings a week each." "That is half a sovereign between them. Mrs. Purcell, you are sure to remain at Warren's Grove for another month; while you are here I will be answerable for the children; I will allow them five shillings a week each--you understand?" "Yes, I understand," said Lydia, "and I'm sure they ought to be obliged to you, Mr. Preston. But should I not take steps about the workhouse?" "I will take the necessary steps when the time comes. Leave the matter to me." That evening Lydia called Cecile to her side. "Look here, child, you have got a kind friend in Mr. Preston. He is going to support you both here for a month longer. It is very good of him, for you are nothing, either of you, but little beggar brats, as your cousin in France won't send any more money." "Our cousin in France won't send any more money!" repeated Cecile. Her face grew very pale, her eyes fell to the ground; in a moment she raised them. "Where are we to go at the end of the month, Aunt Lydia Purcell?" "To the workhouse." "You said before it was to the Union." "Yes, child, yes; 'tis all the same." But here Maurice, who had been busy playing with Toby and apparently not listening to a single word, scrambled up hastily to his feet and came to Cecile's side. "But Cecile and me aren't going into no Union, wicked Aunt Lydia Purcell!" he said. "Heity-teity!" said Lydia, laughing at his little red face and excited manner. The laugh enraged Maurice, who had a very hot temper. "I hate you, Aunt Lydia Purcell!" he repeated, "I hate you! and I'm not going to be afraid of you. You said you'd give our Toby a yard of rope; if you do you'll be a murderer. I think you're so wicked, you're one already." Those words, striking at some hidden, deep-seated pain in Lydia's heart, caused her to wince and turn pale. She rose from her seat, shaking her apron as she did so. But before she left the room she cast a look of unutterable aversion on both the children.