me.

On Wednesday the secretary called at the house, and on Friday Jack
received a letter from him to the effect that the case had been duly
considered by the committee, who had come to the conclusion that as it
was a 'chronic' case they were unable to deal with it, and advised him
to apply to the Board of Guardians. This was what Linden had hitherto
shrunk from doing, but the situation was desperate. They owed five
weeks' rent, and to crown their misfortune his eyesight had become so
bad that even if there had been any prospect of obtaining work it was
very doubtful if he could have managed to do it. So Linden, feeling
utterly crushed and degraded, swallowed all that remained of his pride
and went like a beaten dog to see the relieving officer, who took him
before the Board, who did not think it a suitable case for out-relief,
and after some preliminaries it was arranged that Linden and his wife
were to go into the workhouse, and Mary was to be allowed three
shillings a week to help her to support herself and the two children.
As for Linden's sons, the Guardians intimated their Intention of
compelling them to contribute towards the cost of their parents'
maintenance.

Mary accompanied the old people to the gates of their future
dwelling-place, and when she returned home she found there a letter
addressed to J. Linden. It was from the house agent and contained a
notice to leave the house before the end of the ensuing week. Nothing
was said about the rent that was due. Perhaps Mr Sweater thought that
as he had already received nearly six hundred pounds in rent from
Linden he could afford to be generous about the five weeks that were
still owing--or perhaps he thought there was no possibility of getting
the money. However that may have been, there was no reference to it in
the letter--it was simply a notice to clear out, addressed to Linden,
but meant for Mary.

It was about half past three o'clock in the afternoon when she returned
home and found this letter on the floor in the front passage. She was
faint with fatigue and hunger, for she had had nothing but a cup of tea
and a slice of bread that day, and her fare had not been much better
for many weeks past. The children were at school, and the house--now
almost destitute of furniture and without carpets or oilcloth on the
floors--was deserted and cold and silent as a tomb. On the kitchen
table were a few cracked cups and saucers, a broken knife, some lead
t