down in the night,
and had fallen across the road. They were just clearing the rubbish
away. Diamond's father turned, and made for Charing Cross.

That night the father and mother had a great deal to talk about.

"Poor things!" said the mother. "it's worse for them than it is for us.
You see they've been used to such grand things, and for them to come
down to a little poky house like that--it breaks my heart to think of
it."

"I don't know" said Diamond thoughtfully, "whether Mrs. Coleman had
bells on her toes."

"What do you mean, child?" said his mother.

"She had rings on her fingers, anyhow," returned Diamond.

"Of course she had, as any lady would. What has that to do with it?"

"When we were down at Sandwich," said Diamond, "you said you would have
to part with your mother's ring, now we were poor."

"Bless the child; he forgets nothing," said his mother. "Really,
Diamond, a body would need to mind what they say to you."

"Why?" said Diamond. "I only think about it."

"That's just why," said the mother.

"Why is that why?" persisted Diamond, for he had not yet learned that
grown-up people are not often so much grown up that they never talk like
children--and spoilt ones too.

"Mrs. Coleman is none so poor as all that yet. No, thank Heaven! she's
not come to that."

"Is it a great disgrace to be poor?" asked Diamond, because of the tone
in which his mother had spoken.

But his mother, whether conscience-stricken I do not know hurried him
away to bed, where after various attempts to understand her, resumed and
resumed again in spite of invading sleep, he was conquered at last, and
gave in, murmuring over and over to himself, "Why is why?" but getting
no answer to the question.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE DRUNKEN CABMAN

A FEW nights after this, Diamond woke up suddenly, believing he heard
North Wind thundering along. But it was something quite different. South
Wind was moaning round the chimneys, to be sure, for she was not very
happy that night, but it was not her voice that had wakened Diamond. Her
voice would only have lulled him the deeper asleep. It was a loud, angry
voice, now growling like that of a beast, now raving like that of a
madman; and when Diamond came a little wider awake, he knew that it was
the voice of the drunken cabman, the wall of whose room was at the head
of his bed. It was anything but pleasant to hear, but he could not help
hearing it. At length there came a cry from t