, and the same medley of noises, but the people
were different. The basket-making cripple was gone, and in his place by
the window sat a big Irish beggar-woman, who was keeping up a
conversation with some one (a compatriot evidently) in a window of the
close behind.

The mistress of the house came forward. She was a decent-looking little
woman, but had rather a hard face, expressive of care and anxiety. On
recognizing her visitor she curtsied: "The Wisharts, mem? Yes, they're
a' in jail."

"All in jail?" echoed Miss Mackenzie. "Will you come outside and speak
to me? There are so many people--"

"Eh yes, mem: I'm sure ye fin' the room closs. Eh yes, mem, the Wisharts
are a' in the lock-up."

They were standing outside in the passage, and Mrs. Kennedy held the
door closed by the latch, which she kept firmly grasped in her hand. It
struck Miss Mackenzie as being an odd way to secure privacy for a
privileged communication, to fasten the door of their room upon those
inside. It was expressive, however.

"Ye see, mem," began the landlady, "Wishart's no a very bad man--jist
weak in the heid like--but's wife is jist something awfu', an' I could
not let her bide in a decent lodging-house. We hae to dra' the line
somewhere, and I dra' it low enough, but she wis far below that. Eh,
she's jist terrible! Wishart has a sister in Glasgae verra weel to do,
an' I h'ard him say he'd gie the lassie to her if it wer na for the
wife. The day the school-board gentleman wis here she came back: she'd
been away, ye ken, and she said she'd become a t'otaller, an' so I sed
she micht stay; but, ye see, when nicht came on she an' Wishart gaed out
thegither, an' jist to celebrate their bein' frien's again she an' him
gaed intil a public, an' she got uproarious drunk, an' the polis took
her up. Wishart wis no sae bad, sae they let him come hame; but, ye see,
he had tasted the drink, an' wanted mair, an' he hadna ony money. Ye
see, he'd promised the gentleman who came here that he widna send Baubie
oot to sing again. But he _did_ send her oot then to sing for money for
him, an' the polis had been put to watch her, an' saw her beg, an' took
her up to the office, an' came back here for Wishart. An' so before the
day was dune they were a' lockit up thegither."

Such was the story related to Miss Mackenzie. What was to be done with
Baubie now? It was hardly fair that she should be sent to a reformatory
among criminal children. She had committed no