The doctor told him so on the very day when he learnt that it would be out of his power to discharge the fitting pieties at her grave.

So far from looking to her for sympathy, it behoved him to keep from her as much as a suspicion of what had happened.
Their home at this time was a kitchen in King's Cross Road.

The eldest child, Amy, was now between ten and eleven; Annie was nine; Tom seven.
These, of course, went to school every day, and were being taught to appreciate the woefulness of their inheritance.

Amy was, on the whole, a good girl; she could make purchases as well as her mother, and when in the mood, look carefully after her little brother and sister; but already she had begun to display restiveness under the hard discipline to which the domestic poverty subjected her.

Once she had played truant from school, and told falsehoods to the teachers to explain her absence.