there's a fuss! My word, what a racket! Talk about a fire alarm!" And on
such occasions she would mimic him ridiculingly, to diminish his
complaints, while Emmy roughly relighted the hubble-bubble and patted
her father once more into a contented silence. Pa was to them, although
they did not know it, their bond of union. Without him, they would have
fallen apart, like the outer pieces of a wooden boot-tree. For his sake,
with all the apparent lack of sympathy shown in their behaviour to him,
they endured a life which neither desired nor would have tolerated upon
her own account. So it was that Pa's presence acted as a check and
served them as company of a meagre kind, although he was less
interesting or expansive than a little dog might have been.

When Jenny went out to the scullery carrying her hat, after sweeping the
scraps she had declined back into the old draper's cardboard box which
amply contained such treasures and preserved them from dust, Emmy, now
quite quiet again, continued to sit by the fire, staring at the small
glowing strip that showed under the door of the kitchen grate. Every now
and then she would sigh, wearily closing her eyes; and her breast would
rise as if with a sob. And she would sometimes look slowly up at the
clock, with her head upon one side in order to see the hands in their
proper aspect, as if she were calculating.


ii

From the scullery came the sound of Jenny's whistle as she cheerily held
the hat over the steam. Pa heard it as something far away, like a
distant salvationists' band, and pricked up his ears; Emmy heard it, and
her brow was contracted. Her expression darkened. Jenny began to hum: