The clean, sweet air and
the exercise had given him an appetite to which the smell of cooking
bacon and hot coffee that proceeded from the house had set a sharper
edge. He took his coat from a bush and put it on. Mrs. Waters appeared
at the door.
"You had better come in and have some breakfast before you go," she said,
brusquely; "there's no more sleep for me now."
Mr. Travers obeyed with alacrity, and after a satisfying wash in the
scullery came into the big kitchen with his face shining and took a seat
at the table. The cloth was neatly laid, and Mrs. Waters, fresh and
cool, with a smile upon her pleasant face, sat behind the tray. She
looked at her guest curiously, Mr. Travers's spirits being somewhat
higher than the state of his wardrobe appeared to justify.
"Why don't you get some settled work?" she inquired, with gentle
severity, as he imparted snatches of his history between bites.
"Easier said than done," said Mr. Travers, serenely. "But don't you run
away with the idea that I'm a beggar, because I'm not. I pay my way,
such as it is. And, by-the-bye, I s'pose I haven't earned that two
pounds Benn gave me?"
His face lengthened, and he felt uneasily in his pocket.
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