good while.

At last I said: "John, do you remember the woman who spoke so
sharply to you in the alley that day?"

"Yes. I shall never forget anything which happened that day," he
answered, softly.

"She was my nurse once. She is not such a bad woman, though trouble
has sharpened her temper. Her biggest boy Bill, who is gone off for
a soldier, used to drive your cart, you know."

"Yes?" said John, interrogatively; for I was slow in putting forth my
plans--that is, as much of them as it was needful he should know.

"Sally is poor--not so very poor, though. Your twopence a night
would help her; and I dare say, if you'll let me speak to her, you
might have Bill's attic all to yourself. She has but one other lad
at home: it's worth trying for."

"It is indeed. You are very kind, Phineas." He said no more words
than these--but their tone spoke volumes.

I got into my little carriage again, for I was most anxious not to
lose a day in this matter. I persuaded John to go at once with me to
Sally Watkins. My father was not to be seen; but I ventured to leave
word for him that I was gone home, and had taken John Halifax with
me: it was astonishing how bold I felt myself growing, now that
there was another beside myself to think and act for.