The Nether World

ous with unguents; a sallow, uncomely face, and a handsome moustache. Her countenance was more difficult to read than Clem's; a coarse, and most likely brutal, nature was pla

s possible should follow the hearse, and Mrs. Peckover's reason for conducting Mrs. Gully hither was a justifiable fear lest, if she came alone, the latter would arrive in too manifest a state of insobriety. A certa

ared. Worse than that, however, Clara Hewett, who was losing half a day's work on Jane's account, made a very emphatic statement as to the origin of the illness, and said that if anything happened to

cause I wasn't 'ere? You must go makin' trouble, just

n a fleshy cheek, so vigorous and unexpected a

en cheek in a flame. 'Do that again, an' I'll give you so

r towards St. Luke's; in his window was exhibited a card which stated that a certain medical man could be consulted here daily. The said medical man had, in fact, so much more business than he could attend to-his name appearing in many shops-that the druggist was deputed to act as his assistant, and was considerately supplied with death-certificates, already

ou upset yerself about it, my dear; you've got quite enough to think about. Yer 'usband got anythink yet? Dear, dear

y a frosted cardboard model of St. Paul's under a glass case, behind which was reared an oval tray painted with flowers.. Over the mantel-piece was the regulation mirror, its gilt frame enveloped in coarse yellow gauze; the mantel-piece itself bore a 'wealth' of embellishments in glass and crockery. On each side of it hung a framed silhouette, portraits of ancestors. Other pictures there were many, the most impressive being an ancient oil-painting, of which the canvas bulged forth from the frame; the subject appeared to be a ship, but w

-crate, she would gladly have done so for the saving of expense; but with relatives and neighbours to consider, she drew a great deal of virtue out of necessity, and dealt so very handsomely with the undertaker, that this burial would be the talk of the Close for some weeks. The coffin was inspected inside and out, was admired and appraised, Mrs. P

remarked the female mourners to each othe

educated people, but among the poor-the London poor, least original and least articulate beings within the confines of c

more than paid for that young lady's board and clothing, and all other outlay was not worth mentioning as a deduction from the income created by her sundry investments. Her husband-ten years deceased-had been a 'moulder'; he earned on an average between three and four pounds a week, and was so prudently disposed that, for the last decade of his life, he made it a rule never to spend a farthing of his wage

ow that's what I call a respectable turn-out!' was the phrase passed from mouth to mouth in the crowd gathering near the door. Children in great numbers had absented themselves from school for the purpose of beholding this procession. 'I do like to see spirited 'orses at a funeral!' remarked one of the mourners, who had squeezed his way to the parlour window. 'It puts the finishin' touch, as you may say, don't it?' When

s, and with eccentric modulations of the voice which always occasioned mirth in hearers. Sometimes he stood at a corner and began the delivery of a passage of Scripture in French; how, where, or when he could have acquired this knowledge was a mystery, and Jack would throw no light on his own past. At present, having watched the funeral coaches pass away, he lifted up his voice in a terrific blare, singing, 'All ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord, praise Him and magnify Him for ever.' Ins

n her lips; she kept calling for 'Mr. Kirkwood.' Amy was at school; Annie and Tom frequently went into the room and gazed curi

e meal had been in preparation at an eating-house close by, and was now speedily made ready in the parlour. A liberal supply of various ales was furnished by the agency of a pot-boy (Jane's absence being much felt), and in the course

ngs were being conducted to the very end, Mrs. Peckover became aware of a knocking at the front-door. She b

somebody called Snowdon livin' 'ere,' she

er brain. At present she had very red cheeks, and her cat-like eyes gleamed notice

say?' she whis

d come a

ere. Don't

passage. On the doorstep stood a man with white hair, wearing an unusual k

you wantin

lear, grave voice, 'that a child of the na

told yo

be relations of mine lived somewhere here; I don't know the house, nor the street exactly. The na

e searching the speaker

of that name in the 'ouse, a young girl, at least. Though I d

ed to consult hi

of,' he said slowly, 'she c

hanged; she looked

a mother to her, an' a good mother-though I say it myself-these six years or more. I look on her

ed son of mine that once lived somewhere about here. His name was Joseph James Snowdon. When I last heard of him, he was working at a

t-room; there's been a death in the 'ouse, an' there's sickness

prevailing in Clerkenwell; he was probably not a Londoner by birth, and-a point of more moment-he expressed himself in the tone of one who is habitually thoughtful, who, if the aid of books has been denied to him, still has won from life the kind of knowledge which develops character. Mrs. Peckover had small experience of faces which bear the stamp of simple sincerity. This man's countenance put her

by her. She was left on my 'ands by them as promised to pay for her keep; an' a few months, I may say a few weeks, was all as ever I

t away and left her?' asked t

s respectable to leave this 'ouse; I'd sooner a paid money out o' my own pocket. That's always the way with me. Mr. Willis, he's my undertaker; you'll find him at Number 17 Green Passage. He buried m

; on the other hand, she could not devise the suitable terms in which to reveal it. The steady gaze of the old man was disconcerting. Not that he searched her face with a cunning scrutiny, such as her own eyes expressed; she would have found that less troublesome, as being familiar. The anxiety, the troubled anticipation, which her words had aroused in him, were wholly free from shad

et disregard of her irrelevancies, 'whether

got letters of his writin'. "J. J. Snowdon" stands at

you any reason t

e how I'm to take her with me. Understand me?" he says. "Oh!" I says-not feelin' quite sure what I'd ought to do-see? "Oh!" I says. "Yes," he says; "an' between you an' me," he says, "there won't be no misunderstanding. If you'll keep Janey with you"-an' she was goin' to school at the time, 'cause she went to the same as my own Clem-that's Clemintiner-understand?-"if you'll keep Janey with you," he says, "for a year, or maybe two years, or maybe three years-

mething in the listener's

een in Australia

hav

, speculation at

the country your son is?' i

last, as come more than a year ago,

n absent expression; his ey

as put Australia into the boy's 'ed. He used to tell us he'

man coldly. 'But you haven't told me

rregularly; that at length no money at all was forthcoming; that in the tenderness of her heart she had still entertained the child, sent her to school, privately instructed her in the domestic vi

I shouldn't wonder but she's felt her position a little now an' then; it's only natural in a growin' girl, do what you can to prevent it. Still, she's willin'; that nobody can deny, an' I'm sure I should never wish to. H

't you mention

I spoke as soon as you got into the 'ouse. You can't a noticed it

' asked the ol

's layin' in Mrs. Hewett's room-that's one o' the lodgers-all for the sake o' comfo

ding, but devised to reassure. When he desired to see Jane, Mrs. Peckover assumed an air of perfect willingness,

years in England, and I hoped-I hope still-to find my son. I wish to take his child into my own care; as he left her to strangers-perhaps

ed incomplete. Again the old man's eyes strayed about the ro

se letters you spoke o

ne of coarse resentment whereby the scheming

I should like to see Jan

s grave, pure countenance. As he spoke thus, Mrs. Peckover rose, and said she would first go upstairs just to see how things

remission of half a week's rent, had sufficed to obtain for the former complete freedom in her movements. The child, excited by this disturbance, had begun to moan and talk inarticu

nscious face, when Jane, as if startled, half rose and cried painfully, 'Mr. Kirkwood! oh, Mr. Kirkwoo

red the old man, tur

answered Mrs. Peckover, h

out other words. Mrs. Peckover urged the danger of