k room, and Liza, climbing up the second
flight of stairs, called out as usual.

'Wot ho, Sally!'

The door remained shut, although Liza could see that there was a light
in the room; but on getting to the door she stood still, for she heard
the sound of sobbing. She listened for a minute and then knocked:
there was a little flurry inside, and someone called out:

''Oo's there?'

'Only me,' said Liza, opening the door. As she did so she saw Sally
rapidly wipe her eyes and put her handkerchief away. Her mother was
sitting by her side, evidently comforting her.

'Wot's up, Sal?' asked Liza.

'Nothin',' answered Sally, with a brave little gasp to stop the
crying, turning her face downwards so that Liza should not see the
tears in her eyes; but they were too strong for her, and, quickly
taking out her handkerchief, she hid her face in it and began to sob
broken-heartedly. Liza looked at the mother in interrogation.

'Oh, it's thet man again!' said the lady, snorting and tossing her
head.

'Not 'Arry?' asked Liza, in surprise.

'Not 'Arry--'oo is it if it ain't 'Arry? The villin!'

'Wot's 'e been doin', then?' asked Liza again.

'Beatin' 'er, that's wot 'e's been doin'! Oh, the villin, 'e oughter
be ashimed of 'isself 'e ought!'

'I didn't know 'e was like that!' said Liza.

'Didn't yer? I thought the 'ole street knew it by now,' said Mrs.
Cooper indignantly. 'Oh, 'e's a wrong 'un, 'e is.'

'It wasn't 'is fault,' put in Sally, amidst her sobs; 'it's only
because 'e's 'ad a little drop too much. 'E's arright when 'e's
sober.'

'A little drop too much! I should just think 'e'd 'ad, the beast! I'd
give it 'im if I was a man. They're all like thet--'usbinds is all
alike; they're arright when they're sober--sometimes--but when they've
got the liquor in 'em, they're beasts, an' no mistike. I 'ad a 'usbind
myself for five-an'-twenty years, an' I know 'em.'

'Well, mother,' sobbed Sally, 'it was all my fault. I should 'ave come
'ome earlier.'

'Na, it wasn't your fault at all. Just you look 'ere, Liza: this is
wot 'e done an' call 'isself a man. Just because Sally'd gone aht to
'ave a chat with Mrs. McLeod in the next 'ouse, when she come in 'e
start bangin' 'er abaht. An' me, too, wot d'yer think of that!' Mrs.
Cooper was quite purple with indignation.

'Yus,' she went on, 'thet's a man for yer. Of course, I wasn't goin'
ter stand there an' see my daughter bein' knocked abaht; it wasn't
likely--was it? An' '