[CHAPTER III]
LITTLE MARGERY'S LOSS
"I WONDER if he is any better?" Michael Betts said to himself as he rose the next morning.
It was something new for him to give a thought to any one, save in the way of business. It was strange indeed that he should actually feel anxious concerning the health of a neighbour; but as he moved to and fro, coaxing his fire into a blaze, and preparing his solitary meal, Michael was exceedingly desirous of learning how the new day had found Professor Lavers.
When the woman arrived who came every morning at nine to clean up his place and do him such womanly services as he required, he broke through the reserve he was wont to maintain towards her, and asked her if she could tell him how Professor Lavers was.
"How who is?" she asked, with an air of surprise.
"Professor Lavers."
"And who's 'e? I never 'eard of 'im," she said.
"Oh," Michael answered, with some embarrassment, "he lives in Gower Street—No. 48. He's a very learned, noted man. I thought you might know about him."
"I never 'eard of 'im," she said again. "Is 'e ill, then? What's the matter with 'im?"