d brought her along to her house door: and there she
left 'em with a word or two of thanks, and went in very quiet.
Her victory had uplifted her, of course; but she knew that her man
would be sore in his feelings, and she meant to let him down gently.
She'd have done it, too, if he'd met her in the ordinary way: but
when, after searching the house, she looked into the little back
workshop and spied him seated on the bench there, cross-legged and
solemn as an idol, stitching away at a waistcoat, she couldn't hold
back a grin.

"Why, whatever's the matter with you?" she asked.

"Work," says he, in a hollow voice. "Work is the matter. I can't
see a house--and one that used to be a happy home--go to rack and
ruin without some effort to prevent it."

"I wouldn't begin on Regatta Day, if I was you," says Sal cheerfully.
"Has old Smithers been inquiring again about that waistcoat?"

"He have not."

"Then he's a patient man: for to my knowledge this is the third week
you've been putting him off with excuses."

"I thank the Lord," says her husband piously, "that more work gets
put on me than I can keep pace with. And well it is, when a man's
wife takes to wagering and betting and pulling in low boat-races to
the disgrace of her sex. _Someone_ must keep the roof over our
heads: but the end may come sooner than you expect," says he, and
winds up with a tolerable imitation of a hacking cough.

"I took three pairs of soles and a brill in the trammel this very
morning; and if you've put a dozen stitches in that old waistcoat,
'tis as much as ever! I can see in your eye that you know all about
the race; and I can tell from the state of your back that you watched
it from the Quay, and turned into the 'Sailor's Return' for a drink.
Hockaday got taken in over that blue-wash for his walls: it comes off
as soon as you rub against it."

"I'll trouble you not to spy upon my actions, Madam," says he.

"Man alive, _I_ don't mind your taking a glass now and then in
reason--specially on Regatta Day! And as for the 'Sailor's Return,'
'tis a respectable house. I hope so, anyhow, for we've ordered
supper there to-night."

"Supper! You've ordered supper at the 'Sailor's Return'?"

Sal nodded. "Just to celebrate the occasion. We thought,
first-along, of the 'Green Dragon': but the 'Dragon's' too grand a
place for ease, and Bess allowed 'twould look like showing off.
She voted for cosiness: so the 'Sailor's Return' it is, with r