Other men who came to the house took every opportunity of paying her broad compliments, and some went so far as to offer practical testimony of their admiration.

Sidney merely had a 'How do you do, miss ?' at her service.

Coquetry had failed to soften him; Clem accordingly behaved as if he had given her mortal offence on some recent occasion.

She took care, moreover, to fling a few fierce words at Jane before the latter disappeared into the house.
Thereupon Sidney looked at her sternly; he said nothing, knowing that interference would only result in harsher treatment for the poor little slave.
'You know your way upstairs, I b'lieve,' said Clem, as if he were all but a stranger.
'Thank you, I do,' was Sidney's reply.
Indeed he had climbed these stairs innumerable times during the last three years; the musty smells were associated with ever so many bygone thoughts and states of feeling; the stains on the wall (had it been daylight), the irregularities of the bare wooden steps, were remembrancers of projects and hopes and disappointments.

For many months now every visit had been with heavier heart; his tap at the Hewetts' door had a melancholy sound to him.
A woman's voice bade him enter.