As Hewett did not return, he at length took his leave, and went into the back-room for a moment.

‘She’s asleep,’ said Snowdon, rising from the chair where he had been sitting deep in thought.  ‘It’s a good sign.’

Sidney just looked towards the bed, and nodded with satisfaction.  The old man gave him a warm pressure of the hand, and he departed.  All the way home, he thought with singular interest of the bare sick-room, of the white-headed man watching through the night; the picture impressed him in a way that could not be explained by its natural pathos merely; it kept suggesting all sorts of fanciful ideas, due in a measure, possibly, to Mrs. Hewett’s speculations.  For an hour he was so lost in musing on the subject that he even rested from the misery of his ceaseless thought of Clara.

He allowed three days to pass, then went to inquire about Jane’s progress.  It had been satisfactory.  Subsequent visits brought him to terms of a certain intimacy with Snowdon.  The latter mentioned at length that he was looking for two rooms, suitable for himself and Jane.  He wished them to be in a decent house, somewhere in Clerkenwell, and the rent was not to be more than a working man could afford.

‘You don’t know of anything in your street?’ he asked diffidently.

Something in the tone struck Sidney.  It half expressed a wish to live in his neighbourhood if possible.  He looked at his companion (they were walking together), and was met in return with a glance of calm friendliness; it gratified him, strengthened the feeling of respect and attachment which had already grown out of this intercourse.  In Tysoe Street, however, no accommodation could be found.  Sidney had another project in his thoughts; pursuing it, he paid a visit the next evening to certain acquaintances of his named Byass, who had a house in Hanover Street, Islington, and let lodgings.  Hanover Street lies to the north of City Road; it is a quiet byway, of curving. form, and consists of dwellings only.  Squalor is here kept at arm’s length; compared with regions close at hand, this and the contiguous streets have something of a suburban aspect.

Three or four steps led up to the house-door.  Sidney’s knock summoned a young, healthy-faced, comely woman, who evinced hearty pleasure on seeing who her visitor was.  She brought him at once into a parlour on the ground-floor.

‘Well, an’ I was only this mornin’ tellin’ Sam to go an’ look after you, or write a note, or somethin’!  Why can’t you come round oftener?  I’ve no patience with you!  You just sit at ‘ome an’ get humped, an’ what’s the good o’ that, I should like to know?  I thought you’d took offence with me, an’ so I told Sam.  Do you want to know how baby is?  Why don’t you ask, then, as you ought to do the first thing?  He’s a good deal better than he deserves to be, young rascal—­all the trouble he gives me!  He’s fast asleep, I’m glad to say, so you can’t see him.  Sam’ll be back in a few minutes; at least I expect him, but there’s no knowin’ nowadays when lie can leave the warehouse.  What’s brought you to-night, I wonder?  You needn’t tell me anything about the Upper Street business; I know all about that!’