her way.

In the street, all but dark by this time, she cast anxious glances
onwards and behind, but no old man in an odd hat and cloak and with
white hair was discoverable. Linger she might not. She reached a
house of which the front-door stood open; it looked black and
cavernous within; but she advanced with the step of familiarity, and
went downstairs to a front-kitchen. Through the half-open door came
a strong odour and a hissing sound, plainly due to the frying of
sausages. Before Jane could enter she was greeted sharply in a voice
which was young and that of a female, but had no other quality of
graciousness.

'You've taken your time, my lady! All right! just wait till I've 'ad
my tea, that's all! Me an' you'll settle accounts to-night, see if
we don't. Mother told me as she owed you a lickin', and I'll pay it
off, with a little on my own account too. Only wait till I've 'ad my
tea, that's all. What are you standin' there for, like a fool? Bring
that beer 'ere, an' let's see 'ow much you've drank.'

'I haven't put my lips near it, miss; indeed I haven't,' pleaded the
child, whose face of dread proved both natural timidity and the
constant apprehension of ill-usage.

'Little liar! that's what you always was, an' always will be.--
Take that!'

The speaker was a girl of sixteen, tall, rather bony, rudely
handsome; the hand with which she struck was large and
coarse-fibred, the muscles that impelled it vigorous. Her dress was