"Comfortable--yes," said Mrs Jenkles, looking up and beaming. "And you said he wouldn't go." "He knows as you're here," said Sam; "and that's his aggrawating nature. He's a-selling me." "Selling you, Sam?" "Yes; a-making out as I grumbles without cause. Sit fast; I'll bowl yer up there in no time." "No, Sam, don't--pray, don't go fast!" said his wife, in alarm. "You sit still; it's all right, I tell yer. Good wives is scarce, Sally, so you won't be spilled." Only half convinced, Mrs Jenkles held on very tightly by the sides of the cab, till, well up now in the geography of the place, Sam ran round by the better road, and drew up at B. Sturt's grocery warehouse. "No," said Sam, as Mrs Jenkles made for the shop; "side door, and ring once." As he spoke, Barney's ill-looking face appeared at the door; and as Mrs Jenkles went and rang-- "Mornin'," said Sam. Barney scowled, and blew a cloud of tobacco at him. "Keb, sir?" said Sam, mounting to his perch. Barney growled, and then spat. "Run yer up to town in no time. Cheap trains to S'burban 'andicap," said Sam, grinning. But Barney turned his back as the cab drove off, and asked his wife--"What, them people wanted with kebs now?" Mrs Lane admitted her visitor, and, in a hesitating way, asked her upstairs, where her daughter, looking very pale, was seated by the window, working for very life at the hard, blue cloth garments upon which they were engaged. The girl rose as Mrs Jenkles entered, and bent towards her, flushing slightly beneath the scrutinising gaze to which she was subjected. At the same time, Mrs Jenkles made a short bob, and then another to Mrs Lane, who placed a chair for her, which she declined to take. "It was my husband, ma'am," said Mrs Jenkles, "who came up to you the other day." "Yes," said Mrs Lane. "You have come from him. He brought you to-day?" "I said I should come and see you," said Mrs Jenkles, looking sharply from one to the other. "And he told you?" said Mrs Lane, hesitatingly. "Yes; my husband tells me everything," said Mrs Jenkles, stiffly. "Then you know how good he was to mamma?" said the girl, coming forward. "My husband's one of the best men under the sun, Miss; only he has his weaknesses." "Yes, it was weak," said Mrs Lane, with a touch of bitterness in her voice--"and to such strangers." "If you mean about the money, ma'am," said Mrs Jenkles, in the same uncompromising manner, "I don't; I meant something else." Mrs Lane directed an imploring look at her daughter, and the girl hastily took up her work, as did her mother, and stitched away. "That may have been weak, and it may not," said Mrs Jenkles, who took in everything. "It all depends." "It was a most generous act," said Mrs Lane, in a low, pained voice, "and will bear its fruit. But you will sit down?" Mrs Jenkles seated herself on the very edge of her chair, bolt upright, while Mrs Lane drew out a well-worn purse, took from it half a sovereign, and laid it upon the table.