"Here you are," said the stranger, counting out six shillings into Mr. Chester's hand. "And that's settled." "Not so fast; you're a stranger to us, and a man's got to be careful what kind of people he takes into his house. You see, you're not alone. You bring a little girl with you, and we've got one of our own already. Now we don't wish to be left with another on our hands that don't rightly belong to us. Children are no rarity round about in these parts." Sally, by this time, had found her burden too heavy for her, and the baby-child, with her golden curls and perfectly beautiful features, was now lying on the ground, and Sally was bending over her. Mrs. Chester, who had thrown a thin shawl over Sally, listened to the conversation with interest. She was glad to let her room, but she could not make up her mind as to the character of her new tenant. He was a tall spare man, with thin yellow whiskers and light-grey eyes. His hands were somewhat delicately shaped, and his nails were in good condition, denoting that he was not a common workman, nor one who gained a livelihood by manual labour. His clothes were shabby, and an air of shabby refinement pervaded him. Mrs. Chester was puzzled what to think of him. "You don't want to be left with her on your hands?" exclaimed the stranger boisterously. "Not a likely thing that. Why, every hair of the darling's head is as precious to me as--as----" Not being able to find an appropriate simile, he gave it up, and continued--"Look there. Your little girl seems to have taken a fancy to--to--my little girl. They'll be company for each other. I warrant, if I tried to take her upstairs to bed now, Sally would begin to cry." He was wrong. Sally did not cry as the stranger approached her, but standing, with flashing eyes before her treasure, she struck at him viciously with her little fists. "Didn't I tell you?" inquired the stranger of Mr. Chester, without ill-humour. "Sally's a game little bird. What do you say to letting the children sleep together, just for this night? To-morrow we'll make things straight and comfortable." "All right," replied Mr. Chester, anxious to be off. "The old woman'll see to that. You come along with me now, and have a glass at the Royal George. Goodnight, Sally. Give us a kiss." He stooped to Sally's face, and kissed her. With her arms round his neck, she pulled him to his knees, and made him kiss the sleeping child on the ground. Then, when he raised his face, she kissed him again, and with her mouth close to his, inhaled his breath, and exclaimed: "Oh, shouldn't I like some to drink! I can only smell it now." "Like some what, Sally?" asked the stranger, as in a shame-faced way, Mr. Chester turned from his child. "Some gin," answered Sally, with a smack of her lips. Mr. Chester rose to his feet, with a rueful look. "Give me a kiss, too, Sally," said the stranger; "I'm fond of game little girls."