"Nothing. I'm cleaned out. And I haven't a friend in the world."

He turned his face to the wall in perfect despair.

Elizabeth tried hard not to sit in judgment upon what the catechism
would call her "betters;" and yet her own strong instinct of almost
indefinite endurance turned with something approaching contempt from
this weak, lightsome nature, broken by the first touch of calamity.

"Come, it's no use making things worse than they are. If no body
knows that you are here, lock your door and keep quiet. I'll bring
you some dinner when I bring up Missis' tea, and not even Mrs. Jones
will be any the wiser."

"You're a brick, Elizabeth--a regular brick!" cried the young fellow,
brightening up at the least relief. "That will be capital.--Get me a
good slice of beef, or ham, or something. And mind you, don't
forget!--a regular stunning bottle of pale ale."

"Very well, Sir."

The acquiescence was somewhat sullen, and had he watched Elizabeth's
face he might have seen there an expression not too flattering. But
she faithfully brought him his dinner, and kept his secret, even
though, hearing from over the staircase Mrs. Jones resolutely deny
that Mr. Leaf had been at home since morning, she felt very much as
if she were conniving at a lie. With a painful, half-guilty
consciousness she waited for her mistress's usual question. "Is my
nephew come home?" but fortunately it was not asked.--