‘It isn’t your fault if I don’t know how bad I am,’ said the girl with a half-smile. That she did not resent his lecture more decidedly was no doubt due to its having afforded new proof of the power she had over him. Sidney was shaken with emotion; his voice all but failed him at the last. ‘Good-bye,’ he said, turning away. Clara hesitated, looked at him, but finally also said ‘Good-bye,’ and went on alone. She walked with bent head, and almost passed the house-door in absence of thought. On the threshold was standing Miss Peckover; she drew aside to let Clara pass. Between these two was a singular rivalry. Though by date a year younger than Clara, Clem gave no evidence of being physically less mature. In the matter of personal charms she regarded herself as by far Miss Hewett’s superior, and resented vigorously the tone of the latter’s behaviour to her. Clara, on the other hand, looked down upon Miss Peckover as a mere vulgar girl; she despised her brother Bob because he had allowed himself to be inveigled by Clem; in intellect, in social standing, she considered herself out of all comparison with the landlady’s daughter. Clem had the obvious advantage of being able to ridicule the Hewetts’ poverty, and did so without sparing. Now, for instance, when Clara was about to pass with a distant ‘Good-night,’ Clem remarked: ‘It’s cold, ain’t it? I wonder you don’t put on a ulster, a night like this.’ ‘Thank you,’ was the reply. ‘I shan’t consult you about how I’m to dress.’ Clem laughed, knowing she had the best of the joke. The other went upstairs, and entered the back-room, where it was quite dark. ‘That you, Clara?’ asked Amy’s voice. ‘The candle’s on the mantel-shelf.’ ‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ Clara returned sharply. But the irritation induced by Clem’s triumph quickly passed in reflection on Sidney’s mode of leave-taking. That had not at all annoyed her, but it had made her thoughtful. She lit the candle. Its light disclosed a room much barer than the other one. There was one bed, in which Amy and Annie lay (Clara had to share it with them), and a mattress placed on the floor, where reposed little Tom; a low chest of drawers with a very small looking-glass upon it, a washstand, a few boxes. Handsome girls, unfortunate enough to have brains to boot, do not cultivate the patient virtues in chambers of this description. There was a knock at the door. Clara found her father standing there. ‘Have you anything to tell me, my girl?’ he asked in a subdued voice, furtively regarding her. ‘I shall go on Monday.’ He drew back a step, and seemed about to return to the other room. ‘Father, I shall have to give Mrs. Tubbs the five shillings for a few weeks. She’s going to let me have a new dress.’ ‘Your earnin’s is your own, Clara.’ ‘Yes; but I hope very soon to be able to give you something. It’s hard for you, having no work.’ John brightened wonderfully.