'The people next door but one. I've been asking at many houses in
the neighbourhood. There used to be relations of mine lived
somewhere here; I don't know the house, nor the street exactly. The
name isn't so very common. If you don't mind, I should like to ask
you who the child's parents was.'

Mrs. Peckover's eyes were searching the speaker with the utmost
closeness

'I don't mind tellin' you,' she said, 'that there _is_ a child of
that name in the 'ouse, a young girl, at least. Though I don't
rightly know her age, I take her for fourteen or fifteen.'

The old man seemed to consult his recollections.

'If it's anyone I'm thinking of,' he said slowly, 'she can't be
quite as old as that.'

The woman's face changed; she looked away for a moment.

'Well, as I was sayin', I don't rightly know her age. Any way, I'm
responsible for her. I've been a mother to her, an' a good mother--
though I say it myself--these six years or more. I look on her now
as a child o' my own. I don't know who you may be, mister. P'r'aps
you've come from abroad?'

'Yes, I have. There's no reason why I shouldn't tell you that I'm
trying to find any of my kin that are still alive, There was a
married son of mine that once lived somewhere about here. His name
was Joseph James Snowdon. When I last heard of him, he was working