or to the survivor
of either, Eben had been compelled to make inquiries respecting his long
unrecognised uncle, and had thus been induced to pay the visit to
Portsea which had produced such disastrous results to Mary and me.

The house and furniture and wherry were sold, and directly afterwards he
disappeared from Portsmouth. Perhaps he thought it wise to keep out of
the way of Bob Fox and the other sturdy old salts who supported me. Not
that one of them would have laid a finger on him, and Mary and I agreed
that, far from having any ill-feeling, we should have been ready, for
his uncle's sake, to have been friends if he had explained to us at the
first who he was and his just rights in a quiet way. We had now a hard
struggle to make the two ends meet. Mrs Simmons fell ill, and Mary,
who could no longer go to school, had to attend on her, and I had to
find food and, as it turned out, to pay her rent, she being no longer
able to work for her own support. I did not grumble at this, for I was
grateful to her for her kindness to us; but though we stinted ourselves
to the utmost, we often had not a sixpence in the house to buy fit
nourishment for the poor old lady. Nancy was ready to slave from
morning to night, but was often unsuccessful in obtaining work, so that
she made scarcely enough to support herself; she might have got a
situation, but she would not leave Mary. Whenever honest Jim Pulley
could save a shilling he brought it, as he said, for the widow, though I
knew that besides his wish to help her he was much influenced by his
regard for us. I often thought when the winter came what he and I
should do then. I did not say anything to Mary about the future, but
tried to keep up her spirits, for I saw that her cheek was becoming
pale, and she was growing thinner and thinner every day. At last one
morning, when I had got up just at daylight, and having taken a crust of
bread and a drink of water for breakfast, was about to go out in search
of work, Nancy came into the room, and said--

"I don't know what has come over Mary, but she has been talking and
talking ever so strangely all night, and her cheek is as hot as a live
cinder."

I hurried into the little back room Mary and Nancy occupied next to the
widow's. A glance told me that my dear little sister was in a high
fever. My heart was ready to burst, for she did not know me Mrs
Simmons was too ill to get up and say what she thought of its nature.

"I