When Mrs. Broderick heard of the strange guest at No. 1, Galvaston Terrace, she was deeply interested, and warmly commended Marcus's philanthropy.
"I wonder," she said, thoughtfully, after a few minutes' silence, "whether any of Fergus's things would fit him; you know what a foolish body I have been, Livy, to keep them all this time, and it gives Deb so much trouble to preserve them from moth; but there, we all have our crazes.
"I have been meaning to part with them for a long time, and this seems a good opportunity; it does seem such a pity to touch that money; it would set him up to have a few pounds in hand."
Olivia could not deny this, and in her secret heart she thought Aunt Madge could not do better with her dead husband's things.
"It will be a real act of charity," she said, frankly. "Oh, Aunt Madge, if you could only see his clothes, they are so worn and threadbare, and when Martha washed his shirt and socks she almost cried over the holes; and then his boots!"
"Say no more, my child, it shall be done, and at once," and Mrs. Broderick's mouth looked unusually firm.
The very next day Marcus carried a big parcel upstairs and opened it before Robert Barton's astonished eyes.
Mrs. Broderick, who did nothing grudgingly, had put up all she thought requisite—a warm suit, and a great coat, a pair of boots, some coloured flannel shirts and warm underclothing.
"It has upset him a bit," Marcus said, when he re-entered the parlour, "he is still so weak, you see. He fairly broke down when I showed him the things. He is very grateful; by-the-bye, Livy," sitting down beside her as he spoke, "he has been telling me more about himself to-night; not much, certainly, he does not seem to like speaking of himself, but he gave me a brief outline.
"He has relations, only he has not seen them for some years; it appeared he quarrelled with them or got wrong somehow; in fact, he owned he had been a bit wild, and then things went from bad to worse with him, and he had a run of ill-luck.