about goin' an' gettin' a room in another 'ouse, when he might just
as well make all the savin' he can. But no, that ain't his idea, nor
yet his sister's. I suppose it's their mother as they take after,
though their father he won't own to it, an' I don't blame him for
not speakin' ill of her as is gone. I should be that wretched if I
thought my own was goin' to turn out the same. But there's John, he
ain't a wasteful man; no one can't say it of him. He's got his
fancies, but they've never made him selfish to others, as well you
know, Sidney. He's been the best 'usband to me as ever a poor woman
had, an' I'll say it with my last breath.'

She cried pitifully for a few moments. Sidney, mastering his own
wretchedness, which he could not altogether conceal, made attempts
to strengthen her.

'When things are at the worst they begin to mend,' he said. 'It
can't be much longer before he gets work. And look here, Mrs.
Hewett, I won't hear a word against it; you must and shall let me
lend you something to go on with!'

'I dursn't, I dursn't, Sidney! John won't have it. He's always
a-saying: "Once begin that, an' it's all up; you never earn no more
of your own." It's one of his fancies, an' you know it is. You'll
only make trouble, Sidney.'

'Well, all I can say is, he's an unreasonable and selfish man!'

'No, no; John ain't selfish! Never say that! It's only his fancies,
Sidney.'