until the trouble came upon him. But it's little
enough happiness we had after that, and niver a piece of meat passed
our lips for years. Nothing but potatoes and bread. And you're eating
meat twice a day, I'm thinking, all of you. Ah, it's a strange world,
and a very gay one when you're rich. I was rich once, me darlin'."

"Were you?" Janet asked in surprise.

"Oh, yes," said the old woman, "I was rich once. Me husband was a
licensed victualler in Harrow, and we kept our own wagonette. Many's
the time I've driven it meself into London, to a stable in the Edgeware
Road, where I left it to do me shopping. It was an elegant carriage,
and a white horse not so unlike your own, only smaller."

Janet handed her the tea.

"Thank you, me darlin'," said the old woman. "I'm feeling better
already. That's a beautiful locket you're wearing--it is the very image
of one that belonged to me poor little Clara that died."

The old woman began to cry. Janet was greatly distressed. "I can't help
it," said the old woman. "Me poor little Clara! I kept it for years and
years, and then it was taken from me by my landlady's son, a
good-for-nothing blackguard, in lodgings off the Pentonville Road." She
sobbed afresh. "I've never been happy since," she said.

"Oh," Janet exclaimed, "do take this. I don't want it, I'm sure, if it
would make you happy."

"But it's robbing you of it I am," said the old woman, as her hand
closed on it.

"I'd much rather you had it," Janet replied.

"Heaven bless your kind heart!" said the old woman.

They jogged on, and she continued to look around her and to ask
questions. She asked all about Janet's home and parents.

"Could you," she said at last, "lend me a shilling, my dear? It's to
buy the little baby some mittens, his poor hands get that cold. I don't
want you to give it, but couldn't you lend it me only for to-day? I'll
post you a beautiful postal order to-night, which my daughter's husband
will get for me, or a beautiful row of stamps, if you'll give me the
address of the grand house you'll be staying in at Stratford."

But Janet was firm; she had promised Kink.

"Not for the poor little mite's cold hands?" said the old woman.

It was very hard, but Janet had to say no.

The old woman said no more for some time. Then suddenly, "Did you ever
see the late King, God bless him?" she asked.

"Yes," said Janet, "I saw him once. It was at the opening of
Parliament."

"Then you can tell me," sa