been a decent woman, though a flighty and excitable one. Now some cause,
unknown to the minister, had upset a wavering balance, and was undoing a
life.

As he passed the public-house a man came out, and through the open door
Mr. Drew caught a momentary glimpse of the bar and the drinkers.
Bessie's handsome, reckless head stood out an instant in the bright
light.

Then Drew saw that the man who had emerged was Watson the policeman.
They greeted each other cordially and walked on together. Watson also
was a member of the minister's flock. Mr. Drew felt suddenly moved to
unburden himself.

'That was Costrell's wife, Watson, wasn't it, poor thing?'

'Aye, it wor Mrs. Costrell,' said Watson, in the tone of concern natural
to the respectable husband and father.

The minister sighed.

'It's terrible the way she's gone downhill the last three months. I
never pass almost but I see her going in there or coming out.'

'No,' said Watson, slowly, 'no, it's bad. What I'd like to know,' he
added, reflectively,' is where she gets the money from.'

'Oh, she had a legacy, hadn't she, in August? It seems to have been a
curse. She has been a changed woman ever since.'