Mrs. Silk, who was sitting in her doorway.

"I've brought 'im 'ome," he said, steadying himself against the doorpost;
"brought 'im 'ome."

"Brought 'im 'ome?" said the bewildered Mrs. Silk.

"Don' say anything to 'im," entreated Mr. Wilks, "my sake. Thing might
'appen anybody."

"He's been like that all the way," said Mr. Silk, regarding the steward
with much disfavour. "I don't know why I troubled about him, I'm sure."

"Crowd roun 'im," pursued the imaginative Mr. Wilks. "'Old up, Teddy."

"I'm sure it's very kind of you, Mr. Wilks," said the widow, as she
glanced at a little knot of neighbours standing near. "Will you come
inside for a minute or two?"

She moved the chair to let him pass, and Mr. Wilks, still keeping the
restraining hand of age on the shoulder of intemperate youth, passed in
and stood, smiling amiably, while Mrs. Silk lit the lamp and placed it in
the centre of the table, which was laid for supper. The light shone on a
knuckle of boiled pork, a home-made loaf, and a fresh-cut wedge of
cheese.

"I suppose you won't stay and pick a bit o' sup-per with us?" said Mrs.
Silk.

"Why not?" inquired Mr. Wilks.