As soon as she was alone, Harriet went into the bed-room, and began to examine everything.  Grim had followed her, and came up to rub affectionately against her feet, but she kicked him, muttering, “Get off; you black beast!” Having scrutinised the articles which lay about, she quickly searched the pockets of a dress which hung on the door, but found nothing except a handkerchief.  All the time she listened for any footfall on the stone steps without.  Next she went to the chest of drawers, and was pleased to find that they were unlocked.  In the first she drew out there were some books and papers.  These she rummaged through very quickly, and at length, underneath them, came upon a little bundle of pawn-tickets.  On finding these, she laughed to herself, and carefully inspected every one of them.  “Gold chain,” she muttered; “bracelet; seal-skin;—­ what was she doing with all those things, I wonder?  Ho, ho, Miss Starr?”

She started; there was a step on the stairs.  In a second everything was replaced, and she was back in the sitting-room, stooping over Grim, who took her endearments with passive indignation.

“Have I been long?” panted Ida, as she came in.  “The kettle won’t be a minute.  You’ll take your things off?”

Harriet removed her hat only.  As Ida went about, preparing the tea, Harriet watched her with eyes in which there was a new light.  She spoke, too, in almost a cheerful way, and even showed a better appetite than usual when they sat down together.

“You are better to-day?” Ida said to her.

“Perhaps so; but it doesn’t last long.”

“Oh, you must be more hopeful.  Try not to look so much on the dark side of things.  How would you be,” she added, with a good-humoured laugh, “if you had to work all day, like me?  I’m sure you’ve a great deal to make you feel happy and thankful.”

“I don’t know what,” returned Harriet coldly.

“But your husband, your home, your long, free days?”

The other laughed peevishly.  Ida turned her head away for a moment; she was irritated by this wretched humour, and, as had often been the case of late, found it difficult to restrain some rather trenchant remark.

“It may sound strange,” she said, with a smile, “but I think I should be very willing to endure bad health for a position something like yours.”

Harriet laughed again, and still more unpleasantly.

Later in the evening Harriet went to call upon her friend Mrs. Sprowl.  Something of an amusing kind seemed to be going forward in front of the house.  On drawing near and pressing into the crowd of loitering people, she beheld a spectacle familiar to her, and one which brought a smile to her face.  A man of wretched appearance, in vile semblance of clothing which barely clung together about him, was standing on his head upon the pavement, and, in that attitude, drawling out what was meant for a song, while those around made merry and indulged in practical jokes