CHAPTER VIII.
NEW BROOMS SWEEP CLEAN We were interrupted just then by Mrs.Drabble, who came in for the tea-things, and, as usual, held a long colloquy with her master on sundry domestic affairs.

When she had at last withdrawn, Uncle Max did not resume the subject.

I was somewhat disappointed at this, and in spite of my strong antipathy to Mr.Hamilton I wanted to hear more about his sisters.
He disregarded my hints, however, and began talking to me about my work.
'Do you know anything about the family Mr.Hamilton mentioned ?' I asked, rather eagerly.
'Oh yes; Mary Marshall's is a very sad case; she has seven children, not one of them old enough to work for himself; and she is dying, poor creature, of consumption.

Her husband is a navvy, and he is at work at Lewes; I believe he is pretty steady, and sends the greater part of his wages to his wife, but there are too many mouths to feed to allow of comforts; his old blind mother lives with them.

I believe the neighbours are kind and helpful, and Peggy, the eldest child, is a sharp little creature, but you can imagine the miserable condition of such a home.' 'Yes, indeed.' And I shuddered as I recalled many a sad scene in my father's home.
'I have sent in a woman once or twice to clean up the place; and Mrs.
Drabble has made excellent beef-tea, but the last lot turned sour from being left in the hot kitchen one night, and the cat upset the basin of calf's-foot jelly,--at least the children said so.