"'Pretty well. She does odd jobs, and picks up a bit 'ere and a bit there. When M. Felix first come to live 'ere I'd made up my mind to 'ave 'er altogether with me, though she'd 'ave worrited the life out of me, I know she would; but he wouldn't let me 'ave nobody in the house but 'im, and wouldn't let nobody sleep in it a single night, so I 'ad to disappoint the child. I did take 'er in once or twice when she came round to me almost black and bloo with the way 'er brute of a father had served 'er, but I 'ad to be careful that M. Felix shouldn't see 'er--smuggling 'er into the kitchen when he was away, and letting 'er out very early in the morning--or I should never 'ave 'eard the last of it.' "'You are the only friend the girl has, it seems?' "'She ain't got many more.' "'Mind what I tell you, Mrs. Middlemore,' said our reporter, with the kindest intentions, 'there's capital stuff in Sophy. Now that M. Felix is gone it would be a charity to adopt her, if you haven't any of your own.' "'I ain't got none of my own,' said Mrs. Middlemore, shaking her head dubiously, 'but since I arksed 'er whether she'd like to live with me, and she said she would, she's got into ways that I don't think I could abide. You see, sir, she wasn't so old then, and I might 'ave moulded her. I don't know as I could do it now.' "'What ways do you refer to?' "'Well, sir, I've seen her selling papers in the streets----' "'That's not a crime,' interposed our reporter; 'especially if she does it for food.' "'If you won't mind my saying so,' said Mrs. Middlemore, with considerable dignity, 'I consider it low; but that's not so bad as selling matches, which is next door to begging.' "'But she doesn't beg?' "'No, I don't think she goes as low as that.' "'Nor steal?' "'No,' replied Mrs. Middlemore, with spirit, 'she'll take anything that's give to her, but's as honest as the sun, I'll say that of her.' "'All that you've told me of Sophy, Mrs. Middlemore, is in her favor, and I have already a sneaking regard for her.' "'Lord, sir!' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, misconstruing the sentiment, 'and you the gentleman that you are!' "'Yes,' repeated our reporter, complacently, 'a sneaking regard for her. Hawking papers and matches is not the loftiest occupation, but it is a form of commerce; and commerce, my dear madam, has made England what it is.'