The eyes of mother and daughter met, those of the latter in dread; but it was not the heavy step of Barney, nor the s.n.a.t.c.hy shuffle of his wife, but a quick, decided, solid footstep, and the moment afterwards Mrs Jenkles re-entered the room, and closed the door.

Mrs Lane rose in surprise, and took a step to meet her. Directly after, completely broken down, she was sobbing on the coa.r.s.e, uneducated woman's neck; for she had seen at a glance that the money still lay upon the table by the empty purse--empty now, for the duplicate it had contained was gone--as, with a loving, sisterly movement, the cabman's wife slipped back upon her finger the ring she had been to redeem, and then, kissing her upon the forehead, whispered--

"My poor dear, what you must have suffered! Hush, hush! There, there!"

said Mrs Jenkles, after a pause, with tears streaming down her own simple, honest face; and she patted and tried to soothe her forsaken sister as she would a child.

"There, there, there; don't you cry too, my pretty," she said, as Netta flew to her, and kissed her on the cheek. "Come, come, come, we must hold up. There, that's better; now sit down."

"And I said G.o.d had forsaken us in our distress," sobbed Mrs Lane. "I little thought what forms his angels took."

"There, there, there," said Mrs Jenkles, wiping her eyes with a rapid motion; "if you talk like that you'll drive me away. I told Sam I'd come up to see, for I didn't know; and he is so easily led away, and I thought all sorts of things. But, bless and save us, he never told me half enough. There, there, wipe your eyes."

As she spoke, with a delicacy for which one might not have given her credit, she turned her back, leaving mother and daughter sobbing in each other's arms, while she slipped the money back in the purse, and placed it on the chimney-piece. Her next act was to take off her bonnet and shawl, hang them behind the door, and take up Netta's work and chair, beginning to st.i.tch away with a vigour that astonished the girl, as she tore herself away from her mother, and came to resume her toil.

"No, no, my dear; I'll give you a rest while you see about a bit of dinner; for," she said, with a cheery smile, "you'll let me have a bit with you to-day, now, won't you? I'll try and earn it."

The girl's tears were ready to flow again, but Mrs Jenkles's finger was shaken menacingly at her, and she turned to her mother, who rose, dried her eyes, and came and kissed the broad, smooth forehead.

"G.o.d will bless you for this," she said, softly; and then the work went on once more, with such sunshine in the room as had not seemed to enter it for weeks.

"Ah!" said Mrs Jenkles, as she bit off a fresh length of thread with her firm, white teeth. "Rents are dear up this part, I suppose."

"I pay seven and sixpence a week for this and the back room," said Mrs Lane.

"They'd be dear at half with such furniture," said Mrs Jenkles.

There was another spell of sewing, when Mrs Lane said that she would see about the dinner; and then, as if reading Mrs Jenkles's thoughts--

"I don't like letting Netta go out alone."

"And quite right, too, with her face," said Mrs Jenkles. "But she looks tired. You ought to walk out every day for an hour or two."

The girl gave her a pitiful look.

So the day wore on, Mrs Jenkles taking dinner and tea with them, and seeing that each of them partook of a hearty meal, leaving about half-past nine with a bundle.

It was sharp work to get home before Sam should arrive from the yard; but Mrs Jenkles managed it, had the table laid, the supper out, and the beer fetched, before he came in, took off his shiny hat and old coat, and seating himself began to fill his pipe.

"Well, old lady," he said, "what time did yer get back?"

"About a quarter of an hour ago," said Mrs Jenkles, as she took out some of the work upon which she had been engaged.

Sam whistled and stared.

"What's them?" he said, pointing with his pipe at the work.

"Only some slop-work I want to finish."

Mrs Jenkles seemed so busy, that she could not look up and meet her husband's eye. In fact, to use her own expression, she was all of a twitter, and did not know what Sam would say; for though she nominally ruled him, Sam had a will of his own.

"Well, and did you find out about 'em?"

"Yes, Sam," said Mrs Jenkles, without raising her eyes.

"Bad lot, aint they?" he said, puffing away at his pipe.

Mrs Jenkles shook her head.

"What, aint I been took in, then?" said Sam. "Aint they deep, designing people, as got hold of yer poor innocent husband, and swindled him out of thirty bob?"

"Oh, Sam, Sam!" exclaimed Mrs Jenkles, with her lip quivering, "I never see anything so pitiful in my life."

"Poof!" exclaimed Sam, bursting out into a guffaw, as he turned in his seat, hugged the back of the chair, and shook with laughter. "That's my poor, silly, soft old wife, as can't be trusted out. Did they offer to pay you any of the money back?"

Mrs Jenkles nodded.

"How much?"

"Half a sovereign, Sam."

"Well, that's something; and jolly honest, too!"

"But I didn't take it, Sam," said Mrs Jenkles, dropping her work, to go and rest her hands upon his shoulder.

"You didn't take it?"

"No, Sam, dear."

"Then you've been and let 'em have more."

"Yes, Sam, dear."

"There's a wife for you," he said--"there's a helpmate; and I aint made my guv'nor's money to-day by four bob."

"I couldn't help it, Sam--I couldn't, indeed," she said; bursting into tears; "it was so pitiful--she's a real lady, I'm sure, and her daughter, straining over that heart-breaking work; oh! it was more than I could bear."

"I wasn't such a werry great fool, Sally," he said.

"Oh no, Sam. Oh no. But I haven't told you all yet."

"You haven't?"

"No, dear."

"Well, put me out of my misery at once," said Sam, "that's all."

"Don't be angry with me, Sam, it'll come back to us some way, I hope; and if it don't, we shall only have done what thousands more would have done if they had only known."

"Let's have it," said Sam, gruffly.