is addressed a distinct warning that "This is not a playing ground." From his window Sidney had a good view of the square. The house in which he lived was of two storeys; a brass plate on the door showed the inscription, "Hodgson, Dial Painter." The window on the ground-floor was arched, as in the other dwellings at this end of the street, and within stood an artistic arrangement of wax fruit under a glass shade, supported by a heavy volume of Biblical appearance. The upper storey was graced with a small iron balcony, on which straggled a few flower-pots. However, the exterior of this abode was, by comparison, promising; the curtains and blinds were clean, the step was washed and whitened, the brass plate shone, the panes of glass had at all events acquaintance with a duster. A few yards in the direction away from the square, and Tysoe Street falls under the dominion of dry-rot.
It was not until he set forth to go to work next morning that Sidney called to mind his conversation with Jane. That the child should
