n she wished to throw especial force of sarcasm into a reminiscence
of her earlier days. A woman's powers in the direction of envenomed
memory are terrible.

'You have said it,' was Hood's reply under his breath. 'It was
providential. What did I do, but go and lose my hat out of the window of
the train--had it knocked off by a drunken fellow, in fact. But for this
money I should have gone about Hebsworth bareheaded, and come home so,
too.'

'A new hat! There's a pretty penny gone! Well, it's too much to hope
that any good luck should come without bad at the same time.'

'Well, now you won't fret so much about the rent, Jane?'

He laid his hand upon her shoulder. It was a movement of tenderness such
as had not come to him for years; he felt the need of sympathy; he could
have begged her to give him a kind look. But she had resumed her sewing;
her fingers were not quite steady, that was all.

He left the money on the table and went to Emily in the sitting-room.
She was sitting at the table waiting for him with her kindly eyes.

'And what has the wise woman been doing all day?' he asked, trying in
vain to overcome that terrible fluttering at his side which caught his
breath and made him feel weak.

They talked for some minutes, then footsteps were heard approaching from
the kitchen. Mrs. Hood entered with her sewing--she always took the very
coarsest for such days as this--and sat at a little distance from the
table. As the conversation had nothing to do with Cheeseman's debt, she
grew impatient.

'Have you told Emily?' she asked.

'No, I haven't. You shall do that.'

Hood tried to eat the while; the morsels became like sawdust in his
mouth, and all but choked him. He tried to laugh; the silence which
followed his effort was ghastly to him.

'You see, it never does to believe too ill of a man,' he said, when he
found Emily's look upon him.

Mrs. Hood grew mere at her ease, and, to his relief, began to talk
freely. Emily tortured him by observing that he had no appetite. He
excused himself by telling of his dinner in Hebsworth, and, as soon as
possible, left the table. He went upstairs and hoped to find solitude
for a time in the garret.

Emily joined him, however, before long. At her entrance he caught up the
first bottle his hand fell upon, and seemed to be examining it.

'What is that?' Emily asked, noticing his intentness, which in reality
had no meaning.

'This? Oh, cyanide of potassium. I was lookin