he hire of the furniture will
surely be more than we can afford to pay. I know what a good manager
you are, my boy, but I have such a horror of getting into debt that it
almost frightens me."

"The rent of the house is seven and sixpence a week, mother, with
rates and taxes, and we can afford that out of Bill's earnings and
mine, even if you did not do any work at all; and as to the furniture,
it is every bit paid for out of our savings since we went to work."

On hearing which Mrs. Andrews threw her arms round George's neck and
burst into tears of happiness. She was not very strong, and the
thought of the sacrifices these two boys must have made to get a
house together for her completely overpowered her.

"It seems impossible, George," she said when she had recovered
herself. "Why, you have only been earning ten shillings a week each,
and you have had to keep yourselves and get clothes and all sorts of
things; it seems impossible."

"It has not cost so much as you think, mother, and Bill and I had both
learned to live cheap in Covent Garden; but now let us go downstairs;
you have not seen Bill yet, and I know tea will be ready."

But Bill had not yet come in, and George had to go out into the garden
to fetch him.

"Come on, Bill; mother is delighted with everything. She won't eat
you, you know."

"No, she won't eat me, George; but she will think me an out-and-out
sort of 'ottentot," which word had turned up in a book the boys had
been reading on an evening previously.

"Well, wait till she says so; come along."

So linking his arm in Bill's, George drew him along, and brought him
shamefaced and bashful into the kitchen.

"This is Bill, mother."

"I am glad to see you, Bill," Mrs. Andrews said, holding out her hand.
"I have heard so much of you from George that I seem to know you quite
well."

Bill put his hand out shyly.

"I am sure we shall get on well together," Mrs. Andrews went on. "I
shall never forget that you were a friend to my boy when he was
friendless in London."

"It's all the t'other way, ma'am," Bill said eagerly; "don't you go
for to think it. Why, just look what George has done for me! There was
I, a-hanging about the Garden, pretty nigh starving, and sure to get
quadded sooner or later; and now here I am living decent, and earning
a good wage; and he has taught me to read, ma'am, and to know about
things, and aint been ashamed of me, though I am so different to what
he is. I tell yo