an about among discarded
furniture and indescribable rubbish, or children--few as well-tended as
Mrs. Bubb's--played and squabbled under the dropping soot. Beyond rose
a huge block of tenements, each story entered from an external
platform, the levels connected by flights of iron steps; the lofty
roof, used as a drying ground by the female population, was surrounded
with iron railings. Gammon had hitherto seen nothing disagreeable in
this outlook, nor had the shrieks and curses which at night too
frequently sounded from the huge building ever troubled his repose. But
he was growing fastidious. He thought constantly of a clean little
street not far from Battersea Park--of a gleaming china shop--of a
little parlour which seemed to him the perfection of comfort and
elegance.

Courage and opportunity came together. He sat alone with Mrs. Clover
one Sunday evening, and she told him that Minnie was to be married in
six months' time. Gammon bore the announcement very well indeed; he
seemed really glad to hear it. Then his countenance became troubled, he
dropped awkward sentences; with a burst of honest feeling, which made
him very red, he at length plunged into his confession. Not a little
astonished, Mrs. Clover learnt all that had passed between him and
Polly Sparkes, now Polly Parish. Nothing did he extenuate, but he
wronged neither Polly nor himself.

"There, I've got it out. You had to know. Thank goodness it's over!"

"Why did you tell me?" asked Mrs. Clover, a flush on her comely face,
which could not yet smile, though she asked the question with a
suggestion of slyness.

"It seemed only right--to make things square--don't you see. I shall
know next time I come how you've taken it. And perhaps the next time
after that--"

Mrs. Clover was now smiling, and so gently, so modestly, that Gammon
forgot all about his scheme for a gradual approach. He began to talk
excitedly, and talked for such a long time that his hostess, who wished
him to disappear before Minnie's return, had at length to drive him
away.

"I shall certainly keep on the shop," were her last words before the
door opened. "I've got used to it, and--it'll keep me out of mischief."

Her merry little laugh echoed in Gammon's ears all the way home, and
for hours after. And when, as he rose next morning, he looked out on to
the strips of back-yard and the towering tenements, they had lost all
their ugliness.

"By jorrocks!" he ejaculated, after gashing h