In another moment Hannah entered the kitchen. She had been out for a little walk and it had done her good. Her face was rosy and fresh and beaming with smiles. On her arm she carried a market basket, but as soon as she caught sight of her mother and Joe Brushwood, she threw it on the ground and flew towards them, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Mother!” she cried rapturously; “’owever did you come ’ere. And Joe too!”--more bashfully--“O! I _am_ glad to see you both again. I cries for ’ome every night afore I goes to sleep, mother!” She would have embraced her, but the elder woman thrust her away. “No! Hannah Stubbs, no!” she said, severely, as she glared at her daughter, “not till you gives me a hexplanation of your doings in this ’ere ’ouse--likewise to Joe Brushwood, which we’re ’ere for that, and nothink else.” The rosy colour faded from Hannah’s face, as she encountered her mother’s angry glance. “What ’ave I been a’doing of?” she faltered, “why, nothink, mother--leastways nothink wrong, as I knows on. I’ve tried to give satisfaction. Mrs. Battleby knows that, don’t you, Mum?” “Well! I can’t say as I do, Hannah,” returned that worthy, “if seeing ghosts and sich-like, and playing with the Devil up in the gentlemen’s rooms, is giving satisfaction, I can’t see it, and that’s all!” “Hannah! what ’ave you been a’doing up in the lodgers’ rooms?” demanded Mrs. Stubbs again. “Only ’aving physic,” replied the girl, as she looked down upon the floor. “Come! that ain’t true,” interposed Mrs. Battleby, “for you knows you go into a room all ’ung with black, and sees ghosties, which is only the Devil dressed up to deceive mankind.” “Is this the case?” said her mother, sternly. “I never see none,” replied Hannah, “leastways not in the room, and I ’ates them, mother--I’ve told you so, scores of times--but they will foller me, I can’t ’elp it.” “Does you go to sleep in those gentlemen’s rooms?” continued Mrs. Stubbs. “The physic they gives me, makes me do that!” replied the girl. “’Tain’t _my_ fault!” “Then I’ve done with yer for ever,” exclaimed Joe Brushwood, energetically, “a gal as goes to sleep in gentlemen’s rooms, ain’t the wife for a respectable young man, and it’s all over between us, Hannah Stubbs, you mark that! I’ve told you so, afore two witnesses, so you needn’t try for a breach of promise of marriage case!” “O! no! no! Joe, don’t say that!” cried Hannah, tearfully, “I’ve been a true gal to you all along, Joe, and if--if--I’m so un’appy as to be prosecuted by shadders and things, you did ought to pity me, and not turn against me like that!”