watch the people as they
passed up and down the street, or appeared at the windows of the
opposite houses; wondering whether those rooms were as lonesome as that
in which she sat, and whether those people felt it company to see her
sitting there, as she did only to see them look out and draw in their
heads again. There was a crooked stack of chimneys on one of the
roofs, in which, by often looking at them, she had fancied ugly faces
that were frowning over at her and trying to peer into the room; and
she felt glad when it grew too dark to make them out, though she was
sorry too, when the man came to light the lamps in the street--for it
made it late, and very dull inside. Then, she would draw in her head
to look round the room and see that everything was in its place and
hadn't moved; and looking out into the street again, would perhaps see
a man passing with a coffin on his back, and two or three others
silently following him to a house where somebody lay dead; which made
her shudder and think of such things until they suggested afresh the
old man's altered face and manner, and a new train of fears and
speculations. If he were to die--if sudden illness had happened to
him, and he were never to come home again, alive--if, one night, he
should come home, and kiss and bless her as usual, and after she had
gone to bed and had fallen asleep and was perhaps dreaming pleasantly,
and smiling in her sleep, he should kill himself and his blood come
creeping, creeping, on the ground to her own bed-room door! These
thoughts were too terrible to dwell upon, and again she would have
recourse to the street, now trodden by fewer feet, and darker and more
silent than before. The shops were closing fast, and lights began to
shine from the upper windows, as the neighbours went to bed. By
degrees, these dwindled away and disappeared or were replaced, here and
there, by a feeble rush-candle which was to burn all night. Still,
there was one late shop at no great distance which sent forth a ruddy
glare upon the pavement even yet, and looked bright and companionable.
But, in a little time, this closed, the light was extinguished, and all
was gloomy and quiet, except when some stray footsteps sounded on the
pavement, or a neighbour, out later than his wont, knocked lustily at
his house-door to rouse the sleeping inmates.

When the night had worn away thus far (and seldom now until it had) the
child would close the window, and steal sof