Mrs. Tovey, a voluminous figure in the deepest of black, had taken the tragedy with her accustomed philosophy. She was not the sort of woman to give way to despair; and all her life she had faced the ups and down of fortune with the same outward placidity. Her inner feelings were her own concern; even her husband had never attempted to probe their depth. Besides, Mrs. Tovey belonged to a class which cannot afford to let sentiment interfere with the practical considerations of the moment. “I shall keep on the business,” she was saying. “’Tisn’t as though I’d been left without a penny, in a manner of speaking. Jim had a tidy bit put away; he always used to say he was saving it up for our old age. Then there’ll be the insurance money. Ivy’s a good girl, she hasn’t cost us nothing for the last year or two, and it’s her I’m thinking of mostly. She’ll want a home yet for a bit, and she couldn’t have a better one.” Mr. Copperdock glanced over his shoulder towards the other end of the room, where Ivy and Ted were holding an earnest conversation in low tones. It was Thursday afternoon, early closing day, and the shop below was shut, a circumstance for which Ted appeared devoutly grateful. “I shouldn’t wonder if you lost Ivy before very long,” said Mr. Copperdock slyly. “But she’s a good girl, as you say. But you’ll never manage the business by yourself, Mrs. Tovey. Who’s going along to do the bit of buying of a morning?” “I’ll manage easy enough,” replied Mrs. Tovey confidently. “I shall take young Alf into the shop, and get another lad to drive the van. You’ll find I’ll manage to rub along very comfortable, Mr. Copperdock.” They entered upon an earnest discussion of the science of greengrocery, heedless of the equally earnest discussion which was going on behind their backs. “No, it’s no use, Ted, not yet,” Ivy was saying. “You none of you seem to understand quite. It’s different for Mum; she’s got the business to look after, and she doesn’t think of anything else. I can’t forget how good Dad always was to me, and we just couldn’t do anything he wouldn’t have liked.” “You mean he wouldn’t have liked you to—to walk out with me?” put in Ted, half resentfully. Ivy blushed in spite of herself. “It wasn’t that, exactly,” she replied. “Mind, he never said anything to me, but I’ve got it out of Mum since. He always wanted me to—to get on in the world, and be a credit to the education he’s given me. And I feel that even now he’s dead, I’ve got to try and do what he wanted.” “It isn’t that there’s anybody else?” he suggested with a note of anxiety in his voice. “There isn’t anybody else, Ted,” she replied, looking him straight in the face. “But I’m not going to promise anything until I’ve got over the shock of his being killed like that. Oh, Ted, who can have done it? He hadn’t an enemy in the world, not a real enemy, I mean.”