"Oh! she was well enough here--like a bird chirping about the house--Mattie likes something to do for some one. An extrornary girl, Master Sidney, as was ever sent to be a blessing unto all she took to."

"Yes--an extraordinary girl. Sit down."

"No--it isn't for the likes of me to do that here, sir."

"Sit down, and tell me what you think of her. We don't study appearances in trouble--and a blind man loves the sound of a woman's voice."

"Then you have altered werry much, sir."

"Yes--thanks to Mattie again."

"And to think that she was a little ragged gal about the streets, sir.

Many and many a time have I crept to the door after shop was shut, and given her the odd pieces I could find, and she was allus grateful for 'em."

"Always grateful--who can doubt that?"

"She was waiting for the pieces when you came home and lost that brooch--poor ignorant thing, then, sir!"

"Through you then, Ann, we first knew Mattie Gray. Strangely things come round!"

"Ah! you don't know half her goodness, sir--she's just as kind to anybody who wants kindness--_just_."

"Yes, it is like her!"

"It's a pity her father isn't less of a fidget--she ought to have had a better un than that, or have never lighted on him, I think."

"Is she not happy with him, then?"

"She may be, she mayn't--but he _is_ a fidget, and Mattie ought to have some one to take care of her now, and make her happy--like."

"A husband, you mean?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Sit down, Ann. Perhaps you know of some one who is likely to take care of Mattie in the way you think?"

"I don't know."

"Some one who calls and sees her, and in whom she is interested?"

"Oh! no--no one calls to see _her_," said Ann, "her father's jealous of her liking anybody save himself. I saw that long ago."

"I should like to see--ah, ha! _to see!_" he cried--"Mattie happy. She deserves it."

"Those who think so little of theirselves seldom find happiness though--do they, sir?"

Sidney started at the axiom--it was deeper than Ann Packet's general run of observations.

"There are so few of those good folk in the world, Ann."

"Mattie's one."

"Yes--Mattie's one!" he repeated.

"I've often wondered and a-wondered what would make her happy; do you know, sir, sometimes I think that--that _you_ might, if you'll excuse an ignorant woman saying so."

"That I might!--what has made you think that? Sit down--why _don't_ you sit down!"

"Well, just to talk this over, and for my darling's sake, I will for once demean myself;" and Ann Packet, red in the face with excitement, seated herself on the verge of the horsehair chair.

Ann Packet had broken through the ice at last; it had been a trouble of long duration; she who knew Mattie's secret, guessed where Mattie's chance of happiness rested, she thought. But it is delicate work to strive for the happiness of other people, and leads to woful failures, as a rule.

Ann Packet was nervous; the plunge had been made, and the truth must escape--she dashed into the subject, for "her gal's sake."

"Lookee here, sir--it's no good my keeping back my 'pinion, that our Mattie is really fond of you! When she was a girl in Suffolk Street, and you a bit of a boy, she used to worry me about you, and yet I never guessed it! When she growed bigger and you growed bigger, she showed her liking less, but it peeped out at times unbeknown to herself, and yet I never guessed it! But when she was ill in Tenchester Street, and I left here to nus her, the truth came on me all of a heap, and mazed me drefful!"

"What made you think of this--this nonsense, then?" he asked.

"She spoke about you in her fever, when her head was gone," said Ann; "of how your happiness hadn't come, and yet she'd worked so hard for it.

And somehow I guessed it then--and when she came here, and was, for the fust time, happy in her way--I knowed it!"

"Folly! folly!" murmured Sidney.

"And they who says that she had no right to come here, don't know the rights of things--she liked you best of all, sir, and she comes here, duty bound, to do her best. If they says a word aginst her in MY hearing for her coming here, let 'em look out, that's all!"

Sidney sat, with his fingers interlaced, thoughtful and grave.

"You may go now, Ann--I'm sorry that you have put this into my head. It can't be true."

"True or not, just ask her some day when you feel that you can't do without her help, and see who's wrong of us two. And you'll have to ask her, mind that!"

Ann rose and bustled towards the door. At the door a new form of argument suggested itself, and she came back again.

"You're blind enough not to care for good looks so much now--if you can get a good heart think yourself lucky, sir. You've just the chance of making one woman happy in your life, and in finding your life very different to what it is now, with a blundering gal like me to worry you.

She won't think any the wus of you for being blind and helpless--she's much too good for you!"

"Well, that's true enough, Ann."

"I don't say that I'm saying this for your sake, young man," said Ann Packet in quite a maternal manner, "for you're no great catch to anybody, and will be a sight of trouble. But I do think that Mattie took a fancy to you ever so long ago, and that it didn't die away like other people's because you came to grief. And if my opinion has disc.u.mfrumpled you more than I expected, why, you asked for it, and I haven't many words to pick and choose from, when I've made up my mind to speak. And I'm not sorry now that I've spoke it any-ways."

"I fear Mattie would not thank you, Ann."

"Mattie never knowed what was good for herself so well as for t'other people--I looks after her good like her mother--I don't know that any one else would. And though I'm your servant, I'm her friend--and so I asks you, if you've any intentions, to speak out like a gentleman!"

Still suffering from nervous excitement, Ann Packet closed the door, and ran down-stairs to indulge in an hysterical kind of croaking, with her head in the dresser-drawer. It had been a great effort, but Ann had succeeded in it. Her young master knew the whole truth now, and there was no excuse for him. He must give up Mattie or marry her, she thought--either way her girl would not be "worrited" out of her life any longer!

Meanwhile the young master left his supper untouched, and dwelt upon the revelation. Something new to think of!--something to stir afresh the sluggish current of his life.