Mrs. Mutimer glanced at her and showed commiseration.

'Well, well, don't you worrit about it, Emma,' she said; 'you've
quite enough on your hands. Dick don't care--not he; be couldn't
look more high-flyin' if someone had left him a fortune. He says
it's the best thing as could happen. Nay, I can't explain; he'll
tell you plenty soon as he gets in. Cut yourself some meat, child,
do, and don't wait for me to help you. See, I'll turn you out some
potatoes; you don't care for the greens, I know.'

The fry had hissed vigorously whilst this conversation went on; the
results were brown and unctuous.

'Now, if it ain't too bad!' cried the old woman, losing
self-control. 'That 'Arry gets later every Sunday, and be knows very
well as I have to wait for the beer till he comes.'

I'll fetch it,' said Emma, rising.

'You indeed! I'd like to see Dick if he caught me a-sending you to
the public-house.'

'He won't mind it for once.'

'You get on with your supper, do. It's only my fidgetiness; I can do
very well a bit longer. And Alice, where's she off to, I wonder?
What it is to have a girl that age! I wish they was all like you,
Emma. Get on with your supper, I tell you, or you'll make me angry.
Now, it ain't no use taking it to 'eart in that way. I see what