The cabman walked into the room and laid down the money, slowly emptying the paper afterwards into a pouch, which he took from a side pocket. "This here's twenty-seven, ain't it?" said the cabman then. "Yes, it is twenty-seven," cried Mr Sturt--our friend Barney of the steeplechase--and he seemed so much disturbed that he leaped up and backed into a corner of the room. "You ain't got nothin' again' me, come, now." "No, I ain't got nothin' again' yer," said the cabman, quietly, but with his eye twinkling. "Did yer think I was--?" He finished his sentence with a wink. "Never you mind what I thought," said Barney. "What d' yer want here?" "Only to know if Mrs Lane lives here." "Yes, she do," cried the woman, spitefully; "and why couldn't you ring the side bell, and not come bothering us?" "Because I wanted some tobacco, mum," said the cabman, quietly. "Oh!" said the woman, in a loud voice; "with their cabs, indeed, a-comin' every day: there'll be kerridges next!" "Just you come and go on with your job," said Barney, with a snarl. "I'm coming!" said the woman, sharply. Then to the cabman--"You can go this way;" and she flung open a side door and called up the stairs--"Here, Mrs Lane, another cab's come for you. There, I s'pose you can go up," she added; and then, in a voice loud enough to be heard upstairs, "if people would only pay their way instead of riding in cabs, it would be better for some of us." A door had been heard to open on the first floor, and then, as the vinegary remark of Mrs Sturt rose, voices were heard whispering. The cabman went straight up the uncarpeted stairs, to pause before the half-open door, as he heard, in a low conversation, the words-- "Mamma--dear mamma, pray don't notice it." The next moment the door opened fully, and the pale, worn-looking woman of the accident stood before the cabman, who shuffled off his hat, and stood bowing. "Jenkles, mum," he said--"Samuel Jenkles, nine 'underd seven six, as knocked you down in Pall Mall." The woman stepped back and laid her hand upon her side, seeming about to fall, when the cabman started forward and caught her, helping her to a chair in the shabbily-furnished room, as the door swung to. "Oh, mamma," cried a girl of about seventeen, springing forward, the work she had been engaged upon falling on the floor. "It is nothing, my dear," gasped the other; though her cheek was ashy pale, and the dew gathered on her forehead. "She's fainting, my dear," said the cabman. "Got anything in the house?" "Yes, some water," said the girl, supporting the swooning woman, and fanning her face. "Water!" ejaculated the cabman, in a tone of disgust. "Here, I'll be back directly."