and she longed to float away with the moon out of sight of this world. Her baby grew heavy in her arms, and the vagrant, a bundle of rags thrown forward in a heap, slept at the other end of the bench. But she could not sleep, and the moon whirled on her miserable way. At last the glassy stillness was broken by the measured tramp of the policeman going his rounds, and in reply to her inquiry he directed her to Lambeth Workhouse. As she walked away she heard him rousing the vagrant and bidding him move onward.
THOSE who came to the workhouse for servants never offered more than fourteen pounds a year, and these wages would not pay for her baby's keep out at nurse. Her friend the matron did all she could, but it was always fourteen pounds, till at last an offer of sixteen pounds a year came from a tradesman in Chelsea; and the matron introduced Esther to Mrs. Lewis, a lonely widowed woman, who for five shillings a week would undertake to look after the child.
The shop was placed at a street corner, and twelve feet of fronting on the King's Road, and more than half that amount on the side street, exposed to every view wallpapers and stained-glass designs. The dwelling-house was over the shop; and the Bingleys were Dissenters who exacted the uttermost farthing from their customers and their workpeople. Mrs. Bingley spoke in a sour, resolute voice, when she came down in a wrapper to superintend the cooking, but on Sundays she wore a black satin, fastened with a cameo brooch, and then her manners were lofty. When her husband called 'Mother,' she answered testily, 'Don't keep on mothering me,' overlooking Mr. Bingley's ill-fitting