She groped for the end of a candle, and lit it; holding it up, she looked at her visitor, who had risen, and was facing her. "Martha!" "Yes, Janey, it's me. You're not glad to see me, I dare say, after all these years." "How can you say that? How long have you been here, and where's Prue?" "I've been here--I don't know how long, and there was no one in the room when I came in. Who's Prue?" "My little girl. Where can she have got to? I forgot, Janey. I didn't have a baby when----" She paused. "Finish it," said Martha. "When I ran away and disgraced myself." "O Martha!" said Mrs. Fowler, throwing her arms round her sister and kissing her, "don't think I'm hard on you. God knows I've no call to be hard on anyone, least of all on you. We all make mistakes." "And have got to pay for them. Thank you for your welcome, Janey; it's more than I deserve." "You're my sister, and I love you, Martha. Sit down, sit down, and tell me everything. How often I've wondered what had become of you! But I'm worried about Prue. I left her here with her father when I went out." "Your husband's alive. That's a comfort." "Is it? You wouldn't say so if he was yours. I suppose he's taken her into the streets with him. He's done it before, and got her to beg for him, the brute! It's no use my going out to find her; I shouldn't know where to look." "That tells a tale, and I am sorry for you, Janey. I mightn't have come if I'd known; but I'd nowhere else to go to." "Of course you came here. What a time it is since we saw each other!" "We haven't improved much, either of us," said Martha. "I was hoping you were better off." "I might have been if my husband was a man. The truth must be told: I couldn't be worse off than I am, I left my Prue hungry, and promised her some supper. I take in washing, Martha, and there was five shillings due to me, but the woman wouldn't pay me to-night; I've got to wait till to-morrow, so Prue will have to go to sleep on an empty stomach. It's hard lines on a sickly child, but what can I do?" "I can't assist you, Janey. I've spent my last penny." "There's no help for it, then; we're in the same boat. But tell me where you've been all these years." "In Manchester. It's a puzzle to me how I got here, but I made up my mind to come to London, to try and screw something out of the man who took me away from home. I've got his address, and I went to his house this afternoon. He was away in the country, they told me, but I couldn't get them to tell me where. There was a man saw me standing at his door after they'd shut it in my face, and he came up and asked if he could do anything for me, and whether I would mind telling him what I wanted with Mr. Fox-Cordery, for that's the name of the villain that deceived me, but I said it was no business of his, and I walked away, and left him looking after me. I wandered about till it was dark, and then I thought I'd come and ask you to let me sleep here to-night. Must I turn out?"