sten. Said he couldn't interfere
between Mr Hunter and the men.#

'Ah! They're a bad lot, them two,' said the old woman, shaking her
head sagely. 'But it'll all come 'ome to 'em, you'll see. They'll
never prosper. The Lord will punish them.'

Owen did not feel very confident of that. Most of the people he knew
who had prospered were very similar in character to the two worthies in
question. However, he did not want to argue with this poor old woman.

'When Tom was called up to go to the war,' said the young woman,
bitterly, 'Mr Rushton shook hands with him and promised to give him a
job when he came back. But now that poor Tom's gone and they know that
me and the children's got no one to look to but Father, they do THIS.'

Although at the mention of her dead son's name old Mrs Linden was
evidently distressed, she was still mindful of the Atheist's presence,
and hastened to rebuke her daughter-in-law.

'You shouldn't say we've got no one to look to, Mary,' she said. 'We're
not as them who are without God and without hope in the world. The Lord
is our shepherd. He careth for the widow and the fatherless.'

Owen was very doubtful about this also. He had seen so many badly
cared-for children about the streets lately, and what he remembered of
his own sorrowful childhood was all evidence to the contrary.

An awkward silence succeeded. Owen did not wish to continue this
conversation: he was afraid that he might say something that would hurt
the old woman. Besides, he was anxious to get away; he began to feel
cold in his wet clothes.

As he put his empty cup on the table he said:

'Well, I must be going. They'll be thinking I'm lost, at home.'

The kitten had finished all the bread and milk and was gravely washing
its face with one of its forepaws, to the great admiration of the two
children, who were sitting on the floor beside it. It was an
artful-looking kitten, all black, with a very large head and a very
small body. It reminded Owen of a tadpole.

'Do you like cats?' he asked, addressing the children.

'Yes,' said the boy. 'Give it to us, will you, mister?'

'Oh, do leave it 'ere, mister,' exclaimed the little girl. 'I'll look
after it.'

'So will I,' said the boy.

'But haven't you one of your own?' asked Owen.

'Yes; we've got a big one.'

'Well, if you have one already and I give you this, then you'd have two
cats, and I'd have none. That wouldn't be fair, would it?'

'Well, you