these days?'

'You ought. Get that taken off before I come here again. I suppose I can
come, can't I?'

'I'd be only too grateful if you did. I don't think I treated you very
well in the old days. I used to make you angry.'

'Very angry, you did.'

'I'm sorry for it, then. Come and see me when you can and as often as
you can. God knows, there isn't a soul in the world to take that trouble
except you and Mr. Beeton.'

'A lot of trouble he's taking and she too.' This with a toss of the
head.

'They've let you do anyhow and they haven't done anything for you. I've
only to look and see that much. I'll come, and I'll be glad to come, but
you must go and be shaved, and you must get some other clothes--those
ones aren't fit to be seen.'

'I have heaps somewhere,' he said helplessly.

'I know you have. Tell Mr. Beeton to give you a new suit and I'll brush
it and keep it clean. You may be as blind as a barn-door, Mr. Heldar,
but it doesn't excuse you looking like a sweep.'

'Do I look like a sweep, then?'

'Oh, I'm sorry for you. I'm that sorry for you!' she cried impulsively,
and took Dick's hands. Mechanically, he lowered his head as if to
kiss--she was the only woman who had taken pity on him, and he was not
too proud for a little pity now. She stood up to go.

'Nothing o' that kind till you look more like a gentleman. It's quite
easy when you get shaved, and some clothes.'

He could hear her drawing on her gloves and rose to say good-bye. She
passed behind him, kissed him audaciously on the back of the neck, and
ran away as swiftly as on the day when she had destroyed the Melancolia.

'To think of me kissing Mr. Heldar,' she said to herself, 'after all
he's done to me and all! Well, I'm sorry for him, and if he was shaved
he wouldn't be so bad to look at, but... Oh them Beetons, how shameful
they've treated him! I know Beeton's wearing his shirt on his back
to-day just as well as if I'd aired it. To-morrow, I'll see... I wonder
if he has much of his own. It might be worth more than the bar--I
wouldn't have to do any work--and just as respectable as if no one
knew.'

Dick was not grateful to Bessie for her parting gift. He was acutely
conscious of it in the nape of his neck throughout the night, but it
seemed, among very many other things, to enforce the wisdom of getting
shaved.

He was shaved accordingly in the morning, and felt the better for it. A
fresh suit of clothes, white linen, and the knowledge t