She found things at Rectory Walk as she had expected or worse.
Ern had lost his job. His escapade at the Rink had reached his employers' ears. None too satisfied with the quality of the lad's work, they had seized the excuse to dismiss him.
"There he is!" cried Mrs. Caspar. "Just turn eighteen and back on my hands. Nobody won't have him, and I don't blame em neether."
"Where is he?" asked Mrs. Trupp.
The interview between the two women was taking place in the back sitting-room, where Mrs. Caspar always saw her rare visitors.
Anne nodded in the direction of the study.
"Settin along o dad," she said briefly. "Nothing but trouble along of it all. I took his cigarettes away. If he don't earn neether shan't he smoke, as Alf says. And now dad won't smoke because Ern can't. Sympathetic strike, Alf calls it. And it's dad's one pleasure. I allow him a shilling bacca-money a week. It's just all I do allow him."
"We all make mistakes—especially when we're young," said Mrs. Trupp gently.
The other was adamant.
"There's slips and slips," she retorted. "If he'd gone with a girl I'd have said nothing. But this!"