of burden, a drudge too horrible for anything but work; and I suppose, all things considered, that the fat landlady with a dozen children did well to work you seventeen hours a day, and cheat you out of your miserable wages.  You had no friends; you could not have a friend unless it were some forlorn cat or dog; but you once spoke to me of your brother, who worked in a potato store, and I was astonished, and I wondered if he were as awful as you.  Poor Emma!  I shall never forget your kind heart and your unfailing good humour; you were born beautifully good as a rose is born with perfect perfume; you were as unconscious of your goodness as the rose of its perfume.  And you were taken by this fat landlady as ’Arry takes a rose and sticks it in his tobacco-reeking coat; and you will be thrown away, shut out of doors when health fails you, or when, overcome by base usage, you take to drink.  There is no hope for you; even if you were treated better and paid your wages there would be no hope.  That forty pounds even, if they were given to you, would bring you no good fortune.  They would bring the idle loafer, who scorns you now as something too low for even his kisses, hanging about your heels and whispering in your ears.  And his whispering would drive you mad, for your kind heart longs for kind words; and then when he had spent your money and cast you off in despair, the gin shop and the river would do the rest.  Providence is very wise after all, and your best destiny is your present one.  We cannot add a pain, nor can we take away a pain; we may alter, but we cannot subtract nor even alleviate.  But what truisms are these; who believes in philanthropy nowadays?

* * * * *

“Come in.”

“Oh, it is you, Emma!”

“Are you going to dine at home to-day, sir?”

“What can I have?”

“Well, yer can ’ave a chop or a steak.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, yer can ’ave a steak, or a chop, or—­”

“Oh yes, I know; well then, I’ll have a chop.  And now tell me, Emma, how is your young man?  I hear you have got one, you went out with him the other night.”

“Who told yer that?”

“Ah, never mind; I hear everything.”

“I know, from Miss L——.”

“Well, tell me, how did you meet him, who introduced him?”

“I met ’im as I was a-coming from the public ’ouse with the beer for missus’ dinner.”

“And what did he say?”

“He asked me if I was engaged; I said no.  And he come round down the lane that evening.”

“And he took you out?”

“Yes.”

“And where did you go?”

“We went for a walk on the Embankment.”

“And when is he coming for you again?”

“He said he was coming last evening, but he didn’t.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“I dunno; I suppose because I haven’t time to go out with him.  So it was Miss L——­ that told you; well, you do ’ave chats on the stairs.  I suppose you likes talking to ’er.”