It must not be supposed that Jane Tebbs, the indefatigable, was the only neighbour who had come forward with offers of assistance to the widow; the Tremenheeres, the vicarage, and many other acquaintances had been sincere in their sympathy and goodwill, but somehow or other Mrs. Shafto would have none of them! She refused to see the vicar or his wife, and lay in bed most of the day bewailing her fate, scribbling answers to letters of condolence, and occasionally dipping into a novel. “Read she must,” she declared, “as it diverted her mind from the too dreadful present. A good novel was the best of anodynes.” The auction at “Littlecote” proved an important local event, and threw the annual Church bazaar woefully into the shade. It lasted three summer days and enabled a substantial sum to be placed to the credit of Edward Shafto’s widow. Unfortunately Edward Shafto’s widow had considerable private debts and, when these were settled, five hundred pounds was all that remained for investment. As is proverbial with respect to auctions, good and even valuable lots went in some cases for the traditional old song; it is on record that Mrs. Shafto’s smart victoria was sold to a jobmaster for six pounds, Mrs. Billing secured a wonderful bargain in the Crown Derby tea service, and the Sheffield tea urn fell to Miss Tebbs for ten shillings and sixpence! On the other hand, rubbish was at a premium. The kitchen utensils were dispersed at an alarmingly high figure, and a Turkey carpet, aged twenty years, fetched more than its original cost. The sale was over. Needless to say, it had afforded enormous interest to the inmates of Highfield Cottage. Miss Jane could almost tell the price and history of each individual lot. In a short time the great placards of advertisement were torn off the gate piers at “Littlecote,” the house was closed, and once more the blinds were down. CHAPTER IV KICKS AND HALFPENCE More than four years had elapsed since Mrs. Shafto and her son had driven away from “Littlecote” behind a pair of smart bay steppers. (The widow was determined to keep up what she was pleased to call “her position” to the last.) Immediately succeeding this dignified exit came a woeful change in their circumstances. Mrs. Shafto was obliged to make the best of boarding-house and ’bus, and Douglas, thanks to the exertions of his friends the Tremenheeres, found a situation in a mercantile house in the City. There was no time for him to pick and choose. It was imperative that he should begin to earn without delay, and not, as his parent frankly remarked, “look to a poor widow for support.” This condition of abject poverty was, she declared, “entirely due to his father’s criminal carelessness respecting his affairs. She had what would barely keep her alive”—170 pounds per annum—“and that was all.” As for Douglas, he must work.