the door, with mutual looks of dislike,
which neither took any pains to conceal.
    »Yon's a bold, bad girl,« said Job to Mary.
    »She's very good-natured,« replied Mary, too honourable to abuse a visitor
who had only that instant crossed her threshold, and gladly dwelling on the good
quality most apparent in Sally's character.
    »Ay, ay! good-natured, generous, jolly, full of fun; there are a number of
other names for the good qualities the devil leaves his children, as baits to
catch gudgeons with. D'ye think folk could be led astray by one who was every
way bad? Howe'er, that's not what I came to talk about. I've seen Mr.
Bridgnorth, and he is in a manner of the same mind as we; he thinks it would
have an awkward look, and might tell against the poor lad on his trial; still,
if she's ill she's ill, and it can't be helped.«
    »I don't know if she's so bad as all that,« said Mary, who began to dread
her part in doing anything which might tell against her poor lover.
    »Will you come and see her, Job? The doctor seemed to say as I liked, not as
he thought.«
    »That's because he had no great thought on the subject, either one way or
t'other,« replied Job, whose contempt for medical men pretty nearly equalled his
respect for lawyers. »But I'll go and welcome. I han not seen th' ould ladies
since their sorrows, and it's but manners to go and ax after them. Come along.«
    The room at Mrs. Wilson's had that still, changeless look you must have
often observed in the house of sickness or mourning. No particular employment
going on; people watching and waiting rather than acting, unless in the more
sudden and violent attacks: what little movement is going on, so noiseless and
hushed; the furniture all arranged and stationary, with a view to the comfort of
the afflicted; the window-blinds drawn down, to keep out the disturbing variety
of a sunbeam; the same saddened serious look on the faces of the indwellers: you
fall back into the same train of thought with all these associations, and forget
the street, the outer world, in the contemplation of the one stationary,
absorbing interest within.
    Mrs. Wilson sat quietly in her