to make any
noise while he undressed.

But he could not sleep. He kept seeing the Corneys' kitchen and the
scenes that had taken place in it, passing like a pageant before his
closed eyes. Then he opened them in angry weariness at the recurring
vision, and tried to make out the outlines of the room and the
furniture in the darkness. The white ceiling sloped into the
whitewashed walls, and against them he could see the four
rush-bottomed chairs, the looking-glass hung on one side, the old
carved oak-chest (his own property, with the initials of forgotten
ancestors cut upon it), which held his clothes; the boxes that
belonged to Coulson, sleeping soundly in the bed in the opposite
corner of the room; the casement window in the roof, through which
the snowy ground on the steep hill-side could be plainly seen; and
when he got so far as this in the catalogue of the room, he fell
into a troubled feverish sleep, which lasted two or three hours; and
then he awoke with a start, and a consciousness of uneasiness,
though what about he could not remember at first.

When he recollected all that had happened the night before, it
impressed him much more favourably than it had done at the time. If
not joy, hope had come in the morning; and, at any rate, he could be
up and be doing, for the late wintry light was stealing down the
hill-side, and he knew that, although Coulson lay motionless in his
sleep, it was past their usual time of rising. Still, as it was new
year's Day, a time of some licence, Philip had mercy on his
fellow-shopman, and did not waken him till just as he was leaving
the room.

Carrying his shoes in his hand, he went softly downstairs for he
could see from the top of the flight that neither Alice nor her
daughter was down yet, as the kitchen shutters were not unclosed. It
was Mrs. Rose's habit to rise early, and have all bright and clean
against her lodgers came down; but then, in general, she went to
rest before nine o'clock, whereas the last night she had not gone
till past twelve. Philip went about undoing the shutters, and trying
to break up the raking coal, with as little noise as might be, for
he had compassion on the tired sleepers. The kettle had not been
filled, probably because Mrs. Rose had been unable to face the storm
of the night before, in taking it to the pump just at the entrance
of the court. When Philip came back from filling it, he found Alice
and Hester both in the kitchen, and trying to mak