CHAPTER XIV.
A WELCOME GUEST The bells of St.James's, Clerkenwell, ring melodies in intervals of the pealing for service-time.

One morning of spring their music, like the rain that fell intermittently, was flung westwards by the boisterous wind, away over Clerkenwell Close, until the notes failed one by one, or were clashed out of existence by the clamour of a less civilised steeple.

Had the wind been under mortal control it would doubtless have blown thus violently and in this quarter in order that the inhabitants of the House of Detention might derive no solace from the melody.

Yet I know not; just now the bells were playing 'There is a happy land, far, far away,' and that hymn makes too great a demand upon the imagination to soothe amid instant miseries.
In Mrs.Peckover's kitchen the music was audible in bursts.

Clem and her mother, however, it neither summoned to prepare for church, nor lulled into a mood of restful reverie.