her. She was left on my 'ands by them as promised to pay for her
keep; an' a few months, I may say a few weeks, was all as ever I
got. Another woman would a sent the child to the 'Ouse; but that's
always the way with me; I'm always actin' against my own
interesses.'

'You say that her parents went away and left her?' asked the old
man, knitting his brows.

'Her father did. Her mother, she died in this very 'ouse, an' she
was buried from it. He gave her a respectable burial, I'll say that
much for him. An' I shouldn't have allowed anything but one as was
respectable to leave this 'ouse; I'd sooner a paid money out o' my
own pocket. That's always the way with me. Mr. Willis, he's my
undertaker; you'll find him at Number 17 Green Passage He buried my
'usband; though that wasn't from the Close; but I never knew a job
turned out more respectable. He was 'ere to-day; we've only just
buried my 'usband's mother. That's why I ain't quite myself--see?'

Mrs. Peckover was not wont to be gossippy. She became so at present,
partly in consequence of the stimulants she had taken to support her
through a trying ceremony, partly as a means of obtaining time to
reflect. Jane's unlucky illness made an especial difficulty in her
calculations. She felt that the longer she delayed mention of the
fact, the more likely was she to excite suspicion; on the other
hand, she could not devise the suitable terms in which to reveal it.
The steady gaze of the old man was disconcerting. Not that he
searched her face with a cunning scrutiny, such as her own eyes
expressed; she would have found that less troublesome, as being
familiar. The anxiety, the troubled anticipation, which her words