"D'ye think I could see Muster Girdlestone, sir," she asked, with a
curtsey; "or, maybe, you're Mr. Girdlestone yourself?" The woman was
wretchedly dressed, and her eyelids were swollen and red as from long
crying.

"Mr. Girdlestone is in his room," said the head clerk kindly. "I have
no doubt that he will see you if you will wait for a moment." Had he
been speaking to the grandest of the be-silked and be-feathered dames
who occasionally frequented the office; he could not have spoken with
greater courtesy. Verily in these days the spirit of true chivalry has
filtered down from the surface and has found a lodgment in strange
places.

The merchant looked with a surprised and suspicious eye at his visitor
when she was ushered in. "Take a seat, my good woman," he said.
"What can I do for you?"

"Please, Mr. Girdlestone, I'm Mrs. Hudson," she answered, seating
herself in a timid way upon the extreme edge of a chair. She was weary
and footsore, for she had carried the baby up from Stepney that morning.

"Hudson--Hudson--can't remember the name," said Girdlestone, shaking his
head reflectively.

"Jim Hudson as was, sir, he was my husband, the bo'sun for many a year
o' your ship the _Black Eagle_. He went out to try and earn a bit for
me and the child, sir, but he's dead o' fever, poor dear, and lying in
Bonny river, wi' a cannon ball at his feet, as the carpenter himself
told me who sewed him up, and I wish I was dead and with him, so I do."