‘Oh, I can’t lie still, so it’s no use talkin’!  But see, I want to speak about Clara.  That woman Mrs. Tubbs has been here to see me, talkin’ an’ talkin’.  She says she’ll give Clara five shillin’ a week, as well as board an’ lodge her.  I don’t know what to do about it, that I don’t.  Clara, she’s that set on goin’, an’ her father’s that set against it.  It seems as if it ’ud be a good thing, don’t it, Sidney?  I know you don’t want her to go, but what’s to be done?  What is to be done?’

Her wailing voice caused the baby to wail likewise.  Kirkwood looked about the room with face set in anxious discontent.

‘Is it no use, Mrs. Hewett?’ he exclaimed suddenly, turning to her.  ‘Does she mean it?  Won’t she ever listen to me?’

The woman shook her head miserably; her eyes filled with tears.

‘I’ve done all I could,’ she replied, half sobbing.  ’I have; you know I have, Sidney!  She’s that ’eadstrong, it seems as if she wouldn’t listen to nobody—­at least nobody as we knows anything about.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ he inquired abruptly.  ’Do you think there’s any one else?’

‘How can I tell?  I’ve got no reason for thinkin’ it, but how can I tell?  No, I believe it’s nothin’ but her self-will an’ the fancies she’s got into her ‘ead.  Both her an’ Bob, there’s no doin’ nothin’ with them.  Bob, he’s that wasteful with his money; an’ now he talks about goin’ an’ gettin’ a room in another ’ouse, when he might just as well make all the savin’ he can.  But no, that ain’t his idea, nor yet his sister’s.  I suppose it’s their mother as they take after, though their father he won’t own to it, an’ I don’t blame him for not speakin’ ill of her as is gone.  I should be that wretched if I thought my own was goin’ to turn out the same.  But there’s John, he ain’t a wasteful man; no one can’t say it of him.  He’s got his fancies, but they’ve never made him selfish to others, as well you know, Sidney.  He’s been the best ’usband to me as ever a poor woman had, an’ I’ll say it with my last breath.’

She cried pitifully for a few moments.  Sidney, mastering his own wretchedness, which he could not altogether conceal, made attempts to strengthen her.

‘When things are at the worst they begin to mend,’ he said.  ’It can’t be much longer before he gets work.  And look here, Mrs. Hewett, I won’t hear a word against it; you must and shall let me lend you something to go on with!’

’I dursn’t, I dursn’t, Sidney!  John won’t have it.  He’s always a-saying:  “Once begin that, an’ it’s all up; you never earn no more of your own.”  It’s one of his fancies, an’ you know it is.  You’ll only make trouble, Sidney.’

‘Well, all I can say is, he’s an unreasonable and selfish man!’

’No, no; John ain’t selfish!  Never say that!  It’s only his fancies, Sidney.’

’Well, there’s one trouble you’d better get rid of, at all events.  Let Clara go to Mrs. Tubbs.  You’ll never have any peace till she does, I can see that.  Why shouldn’t she go, after all?  She’s seventeen; if she can’t respect herself now, she never will, and there’s no help for it.  Tell John to let her go.’