satisfaction of what might happen to that society
belle if this half-starved woman got hold of her. Measure for measure,
pang for pang, what torture, what insults, what degradation, could atone
for the life that was suffered in this miserable room? And for the life
of "that girl downstairs" who had given up in despair?

"How about a union now?" asked Nellie, turning with the first pieces of
another coat to the machine.

"Work's too dull," was the answer. "Wait for a few months till the busy
season comes and then I wouldn't wonder if you could get one. The women
were all feeling hurt about the reduction, and one girl did start talking
strike, but what's the use now? I couldn't say anything, you know, but
I'll find out where the others live and you can go round and talk to them
after a while. If there was a paper that would show old Church up it
might do good, but there isn't."

Then the rattle of the machine began again, Nellie working with an
adeptness that showed her to be an old hand. Ned could see now that the
coats were of cheap coarse stuff and that the sewing in them was not fine
tailoring. The cut material in Nellie's hands fairly flew into shape as
she rapidly moved it to and fro under the hurrying needle with her slim
fingers. Her foot moved unceasingly on the treadle. Ned watching her, saw
the great beads of perspiration slowly gather on her forehead and then
trickle down her nose and cheeks to fall upon the work before her.

"My word! But it's hot!" exclaimed Nellie at last, as the noise stopped
for a moment while she changed the position of her work. "Why don't you
open the door?"

"I don't care to before the place is tidy," answered Mrs. Somerville, who
had washed her cups and plates in a pan and had just put Ned on one of
the shaky chairs while she shook and arranged the meagre coverings of the
bed.

"Is he still carrying on?" enquired Nellie, nodding her head at the
partition and evidently alluding to someone on the other side.

"Of course, drink, drink, drink, whenever he gets a chance, and that
seems pretty well always. She helps him sometimes, and sometimes she
keeps sober and abuses him. He kicked her down stairs the other night,
and the children all screaming, and her shrieking, and him swearing. It
was a nice time."

Once more the machining interrupted the conversation, which thus was
renewed from time to time in the pauses of the noise. The room being
"tidied," Mrs. Somerville sat down on