even certain people who were not generally so particular about their
quarters.

"But if you take my advice, Barbara, you'll take the boy to blockmaker
Holman's down at the wharf. They are such nice, respectable people, and
have pitied the boy so when I told them how they were treating him out
here."

Blockmaker Holman, blockmaker Holman! The name rang in her ears as,
heavy-hearted, she entered the tinsmith's.

There he lay among the ragged, dirty clothes, pale, thin and neglected,
with frightened eyes. He began to cry when she took him up; he did not
know her, and she scarcely knew him.

The disappointment--all that she felt--found vent in a rising torrent of
angry words against the tinsmith and his wife.

But at the same time, while she was washing the boy, she felt how big,
coarse and clumsy his face and body were, compared to the two delicate
ones she was accustomed to. She saw now for the first time how
impossible it would be to keep him herself.

But he should go to the blockmaker's, poor boy! Her name wasn't Barbara
if she didn't get her mistress to see to that at once--as early as
to-morrow.

She returned home with a face red and swollen with crying, and was
inconsolable the whole evening until her mistress came down from the
office with the promise that the matter should be arranged.