"Why—what's the matter, Mr. Quarle?" asked the girl.
"Bessie Meggison—have you heard about the new lodger?" asked Simon Quarle, holding her hand and speaking very solemnly.
"Yes—of course I've heard about him," replied Bessie wonderingly. "Mrs. Laws told me. What does it matter?—to me it only means so many more stairs to climb so many times a day. You forget that I'm nothing more than a servant here."
"I try not to remember it," said Simon Quarle, gently touching her cheek with one hand with a touch as light as that of a woman. "When you came back here, little woman—hoping to get shelter in the old Arcadia Street on which you had so gladly turned your back once upon a time—you found me—didn't you?"
She nodded quickly. "And you made it all right with Mrs. Laws, so that I might have food and shelter and a very little money in return for my work. Why—I might have starved but for you."
"Not quite so bad as that, perhaps—but still, you were pretty low down," said the man. "The world hasn't treated you well, my dear—but then the world never does treat the timid ones well. You didn't fight hard enough; you hadn't cheek enough. Only I want you to understand, Bessie dear, that you're not the only one that has suffered."