Part 5 (1/2)

The man made no reply, but smoked with increasing intensity, while he frowned at the empty fire-place.

”Well, Martha,” he said, after a prolonged silence, ”I've got work at last.”

”Have you?” cried the girl, with a look of interest.

”Yes; it ain't much to boast of, to be sure, but it pays, and, as it ties me to nothin' an' n.o.body, it suits my taste well. I'm wot you may call a appendage o' the fire-brigade. I hangs about the streets till I sees a fire, w'en, off I goes full split to the nearest fire-station, calls out the engine, and gits the reward for bein' first to give the alarm.”

”Indeed,” said Martha, whose face, which had kindled up at first with pleasure, a.s.sumed a somewhat disappointed look; ”I--I fear you won't make much by that, Phil?”

”You don't seem to make much by that,” retorted Phil, pointing with the bowl of his pipe to the dress which lay in her lap and streamed in a profusion of rich folds down to the floor.

”Not much,” a.s.sented Martha, with a sigh. ”Well, then,” continued Phil, re-lighting his pipe, and pausing occasionally in his remarks to admire the bowl, ”that bein' so, you and I are much in the same fix, so if we unites our small incomes, of course that'll make 'em just double the size.”

”Phil,” said Martha, in a lower voice, as she let her hands and the work on which they were engaged fall on her lap, ”I think, now, that it will never be.”

”What'll never be?” demanded the man rudely, looking at the girl in surprise.

”Our marriage.”

”What! are you going to jilt me?”

”Heaven forbid,” said Martha, earnestly. ”But you and I are not as we once were, Phil, we differ on many points. I feel sure that our union would make us more miserable than we are.”

”Come, come,” cried the man, half in jest and half in earnest. ”This kind of thing will never do. You mustn't joke about that, old girl, else I'll have you up for breach of promise.”

Mr Sparks rose as he spoke, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, put it in his waistcoat pocket, and prepared to go.

”Martha,” he said, ”I'm goin' off now to attend to my business, but I haven't made a rap yet to-day, and its hard working on a empty stomach, so I just looked in to light my pipe, and enquire if you hadn't got a s.h.i.+llin' about you, eh!”

The girl looked troubled.

”Oh, very well,” cried Sparks, with an offended air, ”if you don't _want_ to accommodate me, never mind, I can get it elsewhere.”

”Stop!” cried Martha, taking a leathern purse from her pocket.

”Well, it _would_ have been rather hard,” he said, returning and holding out his hand.

”There, take it,” said Martha, ”You shouldn't judge too quickly. You don't know _why_ I looked put out. It is my--”

She stopped short, and then said hurriedly, ”Don't drink it, Phil.”

”No, I won't. I'm hungry. I'll eat it. Thankee.”

With a coa.r.s.e laugh he left the room, and poor Martha sat down again to her weary toil, which was not in any degree lightened by the fact that she had just given away her last s.h.i.+lling.

A moment after, the door opened suddenly and Mr Sparks looked in with a grin, which did not improve the expression of his countenance.

”I say, I wouldn't finish that dress to-night if I was you.”

”Why not, Phil?” asked the girl in surprise.

”'Cause the lady won't want it to-morrow arternoon.”