ways
as respectable as e'er a one in Carlingford. The lodgings is ruined!
The very marks of the feet, if it was nothing else!" cried the afflicted
landlady, contemplating the scratched tiles in the hall with actual
tears of vexation and regret. But this was the true state of the case to
every unconcerned spectator. Only Nettie, on whom the burden had fallen,
and was yet to fall heaviest, felt the eyes, which were hot and heavy
with watching, grow dim with tears of unspeakable compassion. From
the fulness of her youth and strength--strength so burdened, youth so
dauntless and dutiful--Nettie gazed with a pity too deep for words at
the awful spectacle of that existence lost. That the lifeless thing in
the room below could have been a man, and yet have come and gone so
disastrously through the world, was terrible to think of, to that
living labouring creature, in the depth of her own strange toils and
responsibilities. Her heart ached over that wretched, miserable fate.
Neither toil nor anguish was to be compared to the dread loss of a life
sustained by that departed soul.

CHAPTER XII.

In a few days all this solemn crisis was over, and life went on again in
its ordinary tame current, closing over the dishonoured grave where Fred
found his rest, henceforward nameless in the world that had suffered his
existence as a cumberer of the ground for so many years. Had he been the
prop of his house and the light of their eyes, life would have gone on
again, after that interruption, all the same, with a persistency which
nothing can impair. As it was, the diminished household resumed its
ordinary course of existence, after a very few days, with little more
than outward marks of what had befallen them. It is true that Nettie
sat down with a repugnance which she scarcely could either overcome or
conceal, to dispense the domestic provisions at the table which shortly
before had borne so dread a burden. But nobody thought of that except
Nettie; and but for the black dresses and Susan's cap, Fred was as if he
had never been.

About a week after the funeral, the doctor went solemnly to visit them
in one of those lengthening spring afternoons. Dr Rider was undeniably
nervous and excited about this interview. He had been at home under
pretence of having luncheon, but in reality to make a solemn toilette,
and wind himself up to the courage necessary for a settlement of affairs.
As he dashed with agitated haste down Grange Lane,