Frank had had many chats with his landlord of an evening, and had
become quite friendly with him and his wife.

"I can't believe it," the man said huskily. "Just to think! When I
went out this morning there was Jane and the kids, as well and as
happy as ever, and there, where are they now?"

"Happier still," Frank said gently. "I lost my mother just as
suddenly only five weeks ago. I went out for a walk, leaving her
as well as usual, and when I came back she was dead; so I can feel
for you with all my heart."

"I would have given my life for them," the man said, wiping his
eyes, "willing."

"I'm sure you would," Frank answered.

"There's the home gone," the man said, "with all the things that
it took ten years' savings of Jane and me to buy; not that that
matters one way or the other now. And your traps are gone, too, I
suppose, sir."

"Yes," Frank replied quietly, "I have lost my clothes and twenty-three
pounds in money; every penny I've got in the world except half a
crown in my pocket."

"And you don't say nothing about it!" the man said, roused into
animation. "But, there, perhaps you've friends as will make it up
to you."