[XIII. Turning Over a New Leaf]
How Little Bessie Kept the Wolf
from the Door.
—————————
[CHAPTER I.]
THE DWELLERS IN THE OLD HOUSE.
NOT many years ago, in the vicinity of Lincoln's Inn Fields, stood an old house, which has only recently been swept away, together with several others, in order to make room for a block of modern buildings which have since been erected on its site. It was said, and there appears to be little doubt of the fact, that it had once been a noble and princely mansion; but at the time of which we write, it was let out in separate tenements to the poor of the surrounding district. And thus it came to pass that up and down that wide staircase, where silken robes were wont to sweep and rustle, pale scantily-clad men and women might be seen passing to and fro to their various rooms, or homes, as they called them, gathered together under that spacious roof. It is of one of these homes that we are about to write.
Matthew Reardon had been at one time engaged on a daily newspaper, but at the period to which we refer, he was endeavouring to earn a precarious livelihood by copying law papers, or any other writing he could manage to procure.