‘I’ve something to tell you,’ he said.  ’I’m going to get married again.’

‘Really?  Why, I’m glad to hear it!’

‘And who do you think?  Miss Barnes.’

Sidney was startled for a moment.  John had had no acquaintance with the girl prior to her imprisonment.  He had said that he should meet her when she came out and give her some money, and Sidney had added a contribution.  For a man in Hewett’s circumstances this latest step was somewhat astonishing, but his character explained it.

‘I’m goin’ to marry her,’ he exclaimed excitedly, ’and I’m doing the right thing!  I respect her more than all the women as never went wrong because they never had occasion to.  I’m goin’ to put her as a mother over my children, and I’m goin’ to make a happier life for her.  She’s a good girl, I tell you.  I’ve seen her nearly every day this fortnight; I know all about her.  She wouldn’t have me when I first asked her—­that was a week ago.  She said no; she’d disgrace me.  If you can’t respect her as you would any other woman, never come into my lodging!’

Sidney was warm with generous glow.  He wrung Hewett’s hand and stammered incoherent words.

John took new lodgings in an obscure part of Clerkenwell, and seemed to have become a young man once more.  His complaints ceased; the energy with which he went about his work was remarkable.  He said his wife was the salvation of him.  And then befell one of those happy chances which supply mankind with instances for its pathetic faith that a good deed will not fail of reward.  John’s brother died, and bequeathed to him some four hundred pounds.  Hereupon, what must the poor fellow do but open workshops on his own account, engage men, go about crying that his opportunity had come at last.  Here was the bit of rock by means of which he could save himself from the sea of competition that had so nearly whelmed him!  Little Clara, now eleven years old, could go on steadily at school; no need to think of how the poor child should earn a wretched living.  Bob, now thirteen, should shortly be apprenticed to some better kind of trade.  New rooms were taken and well furnished.  Maggie, the wife, could have good food, such as she needed in her constant ailing, alas!  The baby just born was no longer a cause of anxious thought, but a joy in the home.  And Sidney Kirkwood came to supper as soon as the new rooms were in order, and his bright, manly face did everyone good to look at.  He still took little Clara upon his knee.  Ha! there would come a day before long when he would not venture to do that, and then perhaps—­perhaps!  What a supper that was, and how smoothly went the great wheels of the world that evening!

One baby, two babies, three babies; before the birth of the third, John’s brow was again clouded, again he had begun to rail and fume at the unfitness of things.  His business was a failure, partly because he dealt with a too rigid honesty, partly because of his unstable nature, which left him at the mercy of whims and obstinacies and airy projects.  He did not risk the ordinary kind of bankruptcy, but came down and down, until at length he was the only workman in his own shop; then the shop itself had to be abandoned; then he was searching for someone who would employ him,