‘The mean thing, that Adela!’ she pursued after a pause.  ’She was to have married Mr. Eldon, and broke it off when she found he wasn’t going to be as rich as she thought; then she caught hold of Dick.  I should like to have seen her face when she found that will!—­I wish it had been me!’

Alice laughed unpleasantly.  Her mother regarded her with an air of curious inquiry, then murmured: 

‘Dick and she did the honest thing.  I’ll say so much for them.’

‘I’ll be even with Mrs. Adela yet,’ pursued Alice, disregarding the remark.  ’She wouldn’t speak for me, but she’s spoken for herself, no fear.  She and her airs!’

There was silence; then Mrs. Mutimer said: 

‘I’ve let the top bedroom for four-and-six.’

‘’Arry’s room?  What’s he going to do then?’

’He’ll have to sleep on the chair-bedstead, here in the kitchen. 
That is, if I have him in the ’ouse at all.  And I don’t know yet as
I shall.’

‘Have you got enough money to go on with?’ Alice asked.

‘Dick sent me a pound this morning.  I didn’t want it’

‘Has he been to see you yet, mother?’

The old woman shook her head.

‘Do you want him to come, or don’t you?’

There was silence.  Alice looked at her mother askance.  The leathern mask of a face was working with some secret emotion.

‘He’ll come if he likes, I s’pose,’ was her abrupt answer.

In the renewed silence they heard some one enter the house and descend the kitchen stairs.  ’Arry presented himself.  He threw his hat upon a chair, and came forward with a swagger to seat himself at the tea-table.

His mother did not look at him.

‘Anything to eat?’ he asked, more loudly than was necessary, as if he found the silence oppressive.

‘There’s bread and butter,’ replied Alice, with lofty scorn.

‘Hullo!  Is it you?’ exclaimed the young man, affecting to recognise his sister.  ’I thought you was above coming here Have they turned you out of your house?’

‘That’s what’ll happen to you, I shouldn’t wonder.’

’Arry cast a glance towards his mother.  Seeing that her eyes were fixed in another direction, he began pantomimic interrogation of Alice.  The latter disregarded him.

’Arry presented an appearance less than engaging.  He still bore the traces of last night’s debauch and of his sojourn in the police-cell.  There was dry mud on the back of his coat, his shirt-cuffs and collar were of a slaty hue, his hands and face filthy.  He began to eat bread and butter, washing down each morsel with a gulp of tea.  The spoon remained in the cup whilst he drank.  To ’Arry it was a vast relief to be free from the conventionalities of Adela’s table.

‘That lawyer fellow Yottle’s been to see them to-day,’ he remarked presently.

Alice looked at him eagerly.

‘What about?’