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always getting the worst of it。
'So it's blowing； and sleeting； and threatening snow； and it's dark； and
very cold； is it； my dear？' said Mr。 Tugby； looking at the fire； and reverting
to the cream and marrow of his temporary elevation。
'Hard weather indeed；' returned his wife； shaking her head。
'Aye； aye！ Years；' said Mr。 Tugby； 'are like Christians in that respect。
Some of 'em die hard； some of 'em die easy。 This one hasn't many days
to run； and is making a fight for it。 I like him all the better。 There's a
customer； my love！'
Attentive to the rattling door； Mrs。 Tugby had already risen。
'Now then！' said that lady； passing out into the little shop。 'What's
wanted？ Oh！ I beg your pardon； sir； I'm sure。 I didn't think it was
you。'
She made this apology to a gentleman in black； who； with his
wristbands tucked up； and his hat cocked loungingly on one side； and his
hands in his pockets； sat down astride on the table…beer barrel； and nodded
in return。
'This is a bad business up…stairs； Mrs。 Tugby；' said the gentleman。 'The
man can't live。'
'Not the back…attic can't！' cried Tugby； coming out into the shop to join
the conference。
'The back…attic； Mr。 Tugby；' said the gentleman； 'is coming down…
stairs fast； and will be below the basement very soon。'
Looking by turns at Tugby and his wife； he sounded the barrel with his
knuckles for the depth of beer； and having found it； played a tune upon the
empty part。
'The back…attic； Mr。 Tugby；' said the gentleman： Tugby having stood
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in silent consternation for some time： 'is Going。'
'Then；' said Tugby； turning to his wife； 'he must Go； you know； before
he's Gone。'
'I don't think you can move him；' said the gentleman； shaking his head。
'I wouldn't take the responsibility of saying it could be done； myself。 You
had better leave him where he is。 He can't live long。'
'It's the only subject；' said Tugby； bringing the butter…scale down upon
the counter with a crash； by weighing his fist on it； 'that we've ever had a
word upon； she and me； and look what it comes to！ He's going to die here；
after all。 Going to die upon the premises。 Going to die in our house！'
'And where should he have died； Tugby？' cried his wife。
'In the workhouse；' he returned。 'What are workhouses made for？'
'Not for that；' said Mrs。 Tugby； with great energy。 'Not for that！
Neither did I marry you for that。 Don't think it； Tugby。 I won't have it。
I won't allow it。 I'd be separated first； and never see your face again。
When my widow's name stood over that door； as it did for many years：
this house being known as Mrs。 Chickenstalker's far and wide； and never
known but to its honest credit and its good report： when my widow's
name stood over that door； Tugby； I knew him as a handsome； steady；
manly； independent youth； I knew her as the sweetest…looking； sweetest…
tempered girl； eyes ever saw； I knew her father （poor old creetur； he fell
down from the steeple walking in his sleep； and killed himself）； for the
simplest； hardest…working； childest…hearted man； that ever drew the breath
of life； and when I turn them out of house and home； may angels turn me
out of Heaven。 As they would！ And serve me right！'
Her old face； which had been a plump and dimpled one before the
changes which had come to pass； seemed to shine out of her as she said
these words； and when she dried her eyes； and shook her head and her
handkerchief at Tugby； with an expression of firmness which it was quite
clear was not to be easily resisted； Trotty said； 'Bless her！ Bless her！'
Then he listened； with a panting heart； for what should follow。
Knowing nothing yet； but that they spoke of Meg。
If Tugby had been a little elevated in the parlour； he more than
balanced that account by being not a little depressed in the shop； where he
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now stood staring at his wife； without attempting a reply； secretly
conveying； however … either in a fit of abstraction or as a precautionary
measure … all the money from the till into his own pockets； as he looked at
her。
The gentleman upon the table…beer cask； who appeared to be some
authorised medical attendant upon the poor； was far too well accustomed；
evidently； to little differences of opinion between man and wife； to
interpose any remark in this instance。 He sat softly whistling； and
turning little drops of beer out of the tap upon the ground； until there was a
perfect calm： when he raised his head； and said to Mrs。 Tugby； late
Chickenstalker：
'There's something interesting about the woman； even now。 How did
she come to marry him？'
'Why that；' said Mrs。 Tugby； taking a seat near him； 'is not the least
cruel part of her story； sir。 You see they kept company； she and Richard；
many years ago。 When they were a young and beautiful couple；
everything was settled； and they were to have been married on a New
Year's Day。 But； somehow； Richard got it into his head； through what the
gentlemen told him； that he might do better； and that he'd soon repent it；
and that she wasn't good enough for him； and that a young man of spirit
had no business to be married。 And the gentlemen frightened her； and
made her melancholy； and timid of his deserting her； and of her children
coming to the gallows； and of its being wicked to be man and wife； and a
good deal more of it。 And in short； they lingered and lingered； and their
trust in one another was broken； and so at last was the match。 But the
fault was his。 She would have married him； sir； joyfully。 I've seen her
heart swell many times afterwards； when he passed her in a proud and
careless way； and never did a woman grieve more truly for a man； than
she for Richard when he first went wrong。'
'Oh！ he went wrong； did he？' said the gentleman； pulling out the vent…
peg of the table…beer； and trying to peep down into the barrel through the
hole。
'Well； sir； I don't know that he rightly understood himself； you see。 I
think his mind was troubled by their having broke with one another； and
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that but for being ashamed before the gentlemen； and perhaps for being
uncertain too； how she might take it； he'd have gone through any suffering
or trial to have had Meg's promise and Meg's hand again。 That's my
belief。 He never said so； more's the pity！ He took to drinking； idling；
bad companions： all the fine resources that were to be so much better for
him than the Home he might have had。 He lost his looks； his character；
his health； his strength； his friends； his work： everything！'
'He didn't lose everything； Mrs。 Tugby；' returned the gentleman；
'because he gained a wife； and I want to know how he gained her。'
'I'm coming to it； sir； in a moment。 This went on for years and years；
he sinking lower and lower； she enduring； poor thing； miseries enough to
wear her life away。 At last； he was so cast down； and cast out； that no
one would employ or notice him； and doors were shut upon him； go where
he would。 Applying from place to place； and door to door； and coming
for the hundredth time to one gentleman who had often and often tried him
（he was a good workman to the very end）； that gentleman； who knew his
history； said； 〃I believe you are incorrigible； there is only one person in the
world who has a chance of reclaiming you； ask me to trust you no more；
until she tries to do it。〃 Something like that； in his anger and vexation。'
'Ah！' said the gentleman。 'Well？'
'Well； sir； he went to her； and kneele