"I've no mother and father," said Fan, trying to repress her sobs.

"Then you'll have brothers and sisters and friends."

"No, I've got no one. I only had one friend, and she's turned against me,
and I'm alone. I'm not a young lady; my mother was poorer than you, and I
must get something to do to make my living."

This confession was a little shock to the woman, for it spoilt her
romance, and the result was that her interest in her young lodger
diminished considerably.

"Well, it ain't no use taking on, all the same," she said, in a tone
somewhat less deferential and kind than before. "And it's too bad a day
for you to go out and look for anything. It's going to snow, I'm
thinking; so you'd better have your breakfast in bed and stay in to-day."

Fan took her advice and remained all day in her room, thinking only of
the strange thing that had happened to her, of the misery of a life with
no one to love. Mary's image remained persistently in her mind, while the
bitter wind without made strange noises in the creaking zinc chimney-
pots, and rattled the window and hurled furious handfuls of mingled dust
and sleet against the panes. And yet she felt no anger in her heart;
unspeakable grief and despair precluded anger, and again and again she
cried, her whole frame convulsed with sobs, and the tears and sobs
exhausted her body but brought no relief to her mind.

Next day there was no wind, though it was still intensely cold, with a
dull grey cloud threatening snow over the whole sky; but it was time for