And Pennyloaf, in spite of the keenest distress, actually felt that there was something in the objection, thus framed! She herself had never been a servant--never; she had never sunk below working with the needle for sixteen hours a day for a payment of ninepence.

The work-girl regards a domestic slave as very distinctly her inferior.
'But that's a long while ago,' she ventured to urge, after reflection.
'That makes no difference.

Do as I tell you, and don't argue.' It was not often that visitors sought Bob at his home of an evening, but whilst this dialogue was still going on an acquaintance made his arrival known by a knock at the door.

It was a lank and hungry individual, grimy of face and hands, his clothing such as in the country would serve well for a scarecrow.

Who could have recognised in him the once spruce and spirited Mr.Jack Bartley, distinguished by his chimney-pot hat at the Crystal Palace on Bob's wedding-day?
At the close of that same day, as you remember, he and Bob engaged in terrific combat, the outcome of earlier rivalry for the favour of Clem Peckover.
Notwithstanding that memory, the two were now on very friendly terms.
You have heard from Clem's lips that Jack Bartley, failing to win herself, ended by espousing Miss Susan Jollop; also what was the result of that alliance.