Some clothes were drying by the hearth; a thin tortoise-shell cat was licking up a stream of milk that was filtering slowly across the floor, in the midst of jugs, cans, a broken broom, some children's toys, and two or three boots.

The bed looked as though it had not been made for days; the quilt and valance were deplorably dirty; but the poor creature herself looked neat and clean, and her hair was drawn off from her sunken cheeks and knotted carefully at the back of her head.

Mr.Hamilton uttered an exclamation of impatience when he saw the smoke, and almost snatched the poker out of Peggy's hands.
'Take the child away,' he said angrily.

'Miss Garston, if you can find some paper and wood in this infernal confusion, I shall be obliged to you: this smoke must be stopped.' I found the broken lid of a box that split up like tinder, and Peggy brought me an old newspaper, and then I stood by while Mr.Hamilton skilfully manipulated the miserable fire.
'All these ashes must be removed,' he said curtly, as he rose with blackened hands: 'the whole fireplace is blocked up with them.' And then he went to the pump and washed his hands, while I sent Peggy after him with a nice clean towel from my basket.

While he was gone I stepped up to the bed and said a word or two to poor Mrs.Marshall.
She must have been a comely creature in her days of health, but she was fearfully wasted now.