reminded　him　of　her　face。　In　his　clumsy　old　mahogany　writing…desk
  were　the　few　letters；　brief　and　peremptory；　which　she　had　written
  to　him　at　the　time　when　he　was　watching　and　listening　meanly　at
  Thorpe　Ambrose　to　please　_her。_　And　when；　turning　his　back　on
  these；　he　sat　down　wearily　on　his　sofa…bedsteadthere；　hanging
  over　one　end　of　it；　was　the　gaudy　cravat　of　blue　satin；　which　he
  had　bought　because　she　had　told　him　she　liked　bright　colors；　and
  which　he　had　never　yet　had　the　courage　to　wear；　though　he　had
  taken　it　out　morning　after　morning　with　the　resolution　to　put　it
  on！　Habitually　quiet　in　his　actions；　habitually　restrained　in　his
  language；　he　now　seized　the　cravat　as　if　it　was　a　living　thing
  that　could　feel；　and　flung　it　to　the　other　end　of　the　room　with
  an　oath。
  The　time　passed；　and　still；　though　his　resolution　to　stand
  between　Miss　Gwilt　and　her　marriage　remained　unbroken；　he　was　as
  far　as　ever　from　discovering　the　means　which　might　lead　him　to
  his　end。　The　more　he　thought　and　thought　of　it；　the　darker　and
  the　darker　his　course　in　the　future　looked　to　him。
  He　rose　again；　as　wearily　as　he　had　sat　down；　and　went　to　his
  cupboard。　〃I'm　feverish　and　thirsty；〃　he　said；　〃a　cup　of　tea　may
  help　me。〃　He　opened　his　canister；　and　measured　out　his　small
  allowance　of　tea；　less　carefully　than　usual。　〃Even　my　own　hands
  won't　serve　me　to…day！〃　he　thought；　as　he　scraped　together　the
  few　grains　of　tea　that　he　had　spilled；　and　put　them　carefully
  back　in　the　canister。
  In　that　fine　summer　weather；　the　one　fire　in　the　house　was　the
  kitchen　fire。　He　went　downstairs　for　the　boiling　water；　with　his
  teapot　in　his　hand。
  Nobody　but　the　landlady　was　in　the　kitchen。　She　was　one　of　the
  many　English　matrons　whose　path　through　this　world　is　a　path　of
  thorns；　and　who　take　a　dismal　pleasure；　whenever　the　opportunity
  is　afforded　them；　in　inspecting　the　scratched　and　bleeding　feet
  of　other　people　in　a　like　condition　with　themselves。　Her　one　vice
  was　of　the　lighter　sortthe　vice　of　curiosity；　and　among　the
  many　counterbalancing　virtues　she　possessed　was　the　virtue　of
  greatly　respecting　Mr。　Bashwood；　as　a　lodger　whose　rent　was
  regularly　paid；　and　whose　ways　were　always　quiet　and　civil　from
  one　year's　end　to　another。
  〃What　did　you　please　to　want；　sir？〃　asked　the　landlady。　〃Boiling
  water；　is　it？　Did　you　ever　know　the　water　boil；　Mr。　Bashwood；
  when　you　wanted　it？　Did　you　ever　see　a　sulkier　fire　than　that？
  I'll　put　a　stick　or　two　in；　if　you'll　wait　a　little；　and　give　me
  the　chance。　Dear；　dear　me；　you'll　excuse　my　mentioning　it；　sir；
  but　how　poorly　you　do　look　to…day！〃
  The　strain　on　Mr。　Bashwood's　mind　was　beginning　to　tell。
  Something　of　the　helplessness　which　he　had　shown　at　the　station
  appeared　again　in　his　face　and　manner　as　he　put　his　teapot　on　the
  kitchen　table　and　sat　down。
  〃I'm　in　trouble；　ma'am；〃　he　said；　quietly；　〃and　I　find　trouble
  gets　harder　to　bear　than　it　used　to　be。〃
  〃Ah；　you　may　well　say　that！〃　groaned　the　landlady。　〃_I'm_　ready
  for　the　undertaker；　Mr。　Bashwood；　when　_my_　time　comes；　whatever
  you　may　be。　You're　too　lonely；　sir。　When　you're　in　trouble；　it's
  some　helpthough　not　muchto　shift　a　share　of　it　off　on　another
  person's　shoulders。　If　your　good　lady　had　only　been　alive　now；
  sir；　what　a　comfort　you　would　have　found　her；　wouldn't　you？〃
  A　momentary　spasm　of　pain　passed　across　Mr。　Bashwood's　face。　The
  landlady　had　ignorantly　recalled　him　to　the　misfortunes　of　his
  married　life。　He　had　been　long　since　forced　to　quiet　her
  curiosity　about　his　family　affairs　by　telling　her　that　he　was　a
  widower；　and　that　his　domestic　circumstances　had　not　been　happy
  ones；　but　he　had　taken　her　no　further　into　his　confidence　than
  this。　The　sad　story　which　he　had　related　to　Midwinter；　of　his
  drunken　wife　who　had　ended　her　miserable　life　in　a　lunatic
  asylum；　was　a　story　which　he　had　shrunk　from　confiding　to　the
  talkative　woman；　who　would　have　confided　it　in　her　turn　to　every
  one　else　in　the　house。
  〃What　I　always　say　to　my　husband　when　he's　low；　sir；〃　pursued　the
  landlady；　intent　on　the　kettle；　〃is；　'What　would　you　do　_now；_
  Sam；　without　Me？'　When　his　temper　don't　get　the　better　of　him　（
  it　will　boil　directly；　Mr。　Bashwood）；　he　says；　'Elizabeth；　I
  could　do　nothing。'　When　his　temper　does　get　the　better　of　him；　he
  says；　'I　should　try　the　public…house；　missus；　and　I'll　try　it
  now。'　Ah；　I've　got　_my_　troubles！　A　man　with　grown…up　sons　and
  daughters　tippling　in　a　public…house！　I　don't　call　to　mind；　Mr。
  Bashwood；　whether　_you_　ever　had　any　sons　and　daughters？　And　yet；
  now　I　think　of　it；　I　seem　to　fancy　you　said　yes；　you　had。
  Daughters；　sir；　weren't　they？　and；　ah；　dear！　dear！　to　be　sure！
  all　dead。〃
  〃I　had　one　daughter；　ma'am；〃　said　Mr。　Bashwood；　patiently〃only
  one；　who　died　before　she　was　a　year　old。〃
  〃Only　one！〃　repeated　the　sympathizing　landlady。　〃It's　as　near
  boiling　as　it　ever　will　be；　sir；　give　me　the　tea…pot。　Only　one！
  Ah；　it　comes　heavier　（don't　it？）　when　it's　an　only　child？　You
  said　it　was　an　only　child；　I　think；　didn't　you；　sir？〃
  For　a　moment；　Mr。　Bashwood　looked　at　the　woman　with　vacant　eyes；
  and　without　attempting　to　answer　her。　After　ignorantly　recalling
  the　memory　of　the　wife　who　had　disgraced　him；　she　was　now；　as
  ignorantly；　forcing　him　back　on　the　miserable　remembrance　of　the
  son　who　had　ruined　and　deserted　him。　For　the　first　time；　since　he
  had　told　his　story　to　Midwinter；　at　their　introductory　interview
  in　the　great　house；　his　mind　reverted　once　more　to　the　bitter
  disappointment　and　disaster　of　the　past。　Again　he　thought　of　the
  bygone　days；　when　he　had　become　security　for　his　son；　and　when
  that　son's　dishonesty　had　forced　him　to　sell　everything　he
  possessed　to　pay　the　forfeit　that　was　exacted　when　the　forfeit
  was　due。　〃I　have　a　son；　ma'am；〃　he　said；　becoming　conscious　that
  the　landlady　was　looking　at　him　in　mute　and　melancholy　surprise。
  〃I　did　my　best　to　help　him　forward　in　the　world；　and　he　has
  behaved　very　badly　to　me。〃
  〃Did　he；　now？〃　rejoined　the　landlady；　with　an　appearance　of　the
  greatest　interest。　〃Behaved　badly　to　youalmost　broke　your
  heart；　didn't　he？　Ah；　it　will　come　home　to　him；　sooner　or　later。
  Don't　you　fear！　'Honor　your　father　and　mother；'　wasn't　put　on
  Moses's　tables　of　stone　for　nothing；　Mr。　Bashwood。　Where　may　he
  be；　and　what　is　he　doing　now；　sir？〃
  The　question　was　in　effect　almost　the　same　as　the　question　which
  Midwinter　had　put　when　the　circumstances　had　been　described　to
  him。　As　Mr。　Bashwood　had　answered　it　on　the　former　occasion；　so
  （in　nearly　the　same　words）　he　answered　it　now。
  〃My　son　is　in　London；　ma'am；　for　all　I　know　to　the　contrary。　He
  was　employed；　when　I　last　heard　of　him；　in　no　very　creditable
  way；　at　the　Private　Inquiry　Office〃
  At　those　words　he　suddenly　checked　himself。　His　face　flushed；　his
  eyes　brightened；　he　pushed　away　the　cup　which　had　just　been
  filled　for　him；　and　rose　from　his　seat。　The　landlady　started　back
  a　step。　There　was　something　in　her　lodger's　face　that　she　had
  never　seen　in　it　before。
  〃I　hope　I've　not　offended　you；　sir；〃　said　the　woman；　recovering
  her　self…possession；　and　looking　a　little　too　ready　to　take
  offense　on　her　side；　at　a　moment's　notice。
  〃Far　from　it；　ma'am；　far　from　it！〃　he　rejoined；　in　a　strangely
  eager；　hurried　way。　〃I　have　just　remembered　somethingsomething
  very　important。　I　must　go　upstairsit's　a　letter；　a　letter；　a
  letter。　I'll　come　back　to　my　tea；　ma'am。　I　beg　your　pardon；　I'm
  much　obliged　to　you；　you've　been　very　kindI'll　say　good…by；　if
  you'll　allow　me；　for　the　present。〃　To　the　landlady's　amazement；
  he　cordially　shook　hands　with　her；　and　made　for　the　door；　leaving
  tea　and　tea…pot　to　take　care　of　themselves。
  The　moment　he　reached　his　own　room；　he　locked　himself　in。　For　a
  little　while　he　stood　holding　by　the　chimney…piece；　waiting　to
  recover　his　breath。　The　moment　he　could　move　again；　he　opened　his
  writing…desk　on　the　table。　〃That　for　you；　Mr。　Pedgift　and　Son！〃
  he　said；　with　a　snap　of　his　fingers　as　he　sat　down。　〃I've　got　a
  son　too！〃
  There　was　a　knock　at　the　doora　knock；　soft；　considerate；　and
  confidential。　The　anxious　landlady　wished　to　know　whether　Mr。
  Bashwood　was　ill；　and　begged　to　intimate　for　the　second　time　that
  she　earnestly　trusted　she　had　given　him　no　offense。
  〃No！　no！〃　he　called　through　the　door。　〃I'm　quite　wellI'm
  writing；　ma'am；　I'm　writingplease　to　excuse　me。　She's　a　good
  woman；　she's　an　excellent　woman；〃　he　thought；　when　the　landlady
  had　retired。　〃I'll　make　her　a　little　present。　My　mind's　so
  unsettled；　I　might　never　have　thought　of　it　but　for　her。　Oh；　if
  my　boy　is　at　the　office　still！　Oh；　if　I　can　only　write　a　letter
  that　will　make　him　pity　me！〃
  He　took　up　his　pen；　and　sat　thinking　anxiously；　thinking　long；
  before　he　touched　the　paper。　Slowly；　with　many　patient　pauses　to
  think　and　think　again；　and　with　more　than　ordinary　care　to　make
  his　writing　legible；　he　traced　these　lines：
  〃MY　DEAR　JAMESYou　will　be　surprised；　I　am　afraid；　to　see　my
  handwriting。　Pray　don't　suppose　I　am　going　to　ask　you　for　money；
  or　to　reproach　you　for　having　sold　me　out　of　house　and　home　when
  you　forfeited　your　security；　and　I　had　to　pay。　I　am　willing　and
  anxious　to　let　by…gones　be　by…gones；　and　to　forget　the　past。
  〃It　is　in