e later she was staring into the glass, silent and absorbed,
forgetful of Mrs Partridge, Chook, and her father. The hat was a
dream. The black trimmings and drooping feathers set off the ivory
pallor of her face and made the wonderful hair gleam like threads of
precious metal. She turned her head to judge it at very angle,
surprised at her own beauty. Presently she lifted it off her head as
tenderly as if it were a crown, with the reverence of women for the
things that increase their beauty. She put it down as if it were made
of glass.

"I'll git Miss Jones to alter the bow, an' put the feathers farther
back," she said, like one in a dream.

"I thought yer wouldn't wear it at any price," said Chook, delighted,
but puzzled.

"Sometimes you talk like a man that's bin drinkin'," said Pinkey, with
the faintest possible smile.

CHAPTER 16

A DEATH IN THE FAMILY

It was past ten o'clock, and one by one, with a sudden, swift collapse,
each shop in Botany Road extinguished its lights, leaving a blank gap
in the shining row of glass windows. Mrs Yabsley turned into Cardigan
Street and, taking a firmer grip of her parcels, mounted the hill
slowly on account of her breath. She still continued to shop at the
last minute, in a panic, as her mother had done before her, proud of
her habit of being the last customer at the butcher's and the grocer's.
She looked up at the sky and, being anxious for the morrow, tried to
forecast the weather. A sharp wind was blowing, and the stars winked
cheerfully in a windswept sky. There was every promise of a fine day,
but to make sure, she tried the corn on her left foot. The corn gave
no sign, and she thought with satisfaction of her new companion, Miss
Perkins.

For years she had searched high and low for some penniless woman to
share her cottage and Jonah's allowance, and her pensioners had gone
out of their way to invent new methods of robbing her. But Miss
Perkins (whom she had found shivering and hungry on the doorstep as she
was going to bed one night and had taken in without asking questions,
as was her habit) guarded Mrs Yabsley's property like a watchdog. For
Cardigan Street, when it learned that Mrs Yabsley only worked for the
fun of the thing, had leaped to the conclusion that she was rolling in
money. They knew that she had given Jonah his start in life, and felt
certain that she owned half of the Silver Shoe.

So the older residents had come to look on Mrs Ya