Any hopes which Hardy might have entertained as to the attitude of Miss Nugent were dispelled the first time he saw her, that dutiful daughter of a strong-willed sire favouring him with a bow which was exactly half an inch in depth and then promptly bestowing her gaze elsewhere.

He passed Captain Nugent next day, and for a week afterwards he had only to close his eyes to see in all its appalling virulence the glare with which that gentleman had acknowledged his attempt at recognition.
[Illustration: "Captain Nugent."] He fared no better in Fullalove Alley, a visit to Mr.Wilks eliciting the fact that that delectable thoroughfare had been put out of bounds for Miss Nugent.

Moreover, Mr.Wilks was full of his own troubles and anxious for any comfort and advice that could be given to him.

All the alley knew that Mrs.Silk had quarrelled with her son over the steward, and, without knowing the facts, spoke their mind with painful freedom concerning them.
"She and Teddy don't speak to each other now," said Mr.Wilks, gloomily, "and to 'ear people talk you'd think it was my fault." Hardy gave him what comfort he could.

He even went the length of saying that Mrs.Silk was a fine woman.
"She acts like a suffering martyr," exclaimed Mr.Wilks.