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‘I was so glad,’ said Mrs. Rymer one day to her friend, the day on which she first rose from bed, ‘that my husband took you into his confidence about our affairs. Now you know everything, and it is much better. You know that we are very unlucky, but that no one can breathe a word against our honour. This was the thought that held me up through my illness. In a very short time all our debts will be paid–every farthing, and it will be delightful to remember how we struggled, and what we endured, to keep an honest name. Though,’ she added tenderly, ‘how we should have done without you, I really cannot imagine. We might have sunk–gone down!’

For months Mrs. Rymer led the life of a feeble convalescent. She ought to have had change of air, but that was out of the question, for Mr. Rymer’s business was as unremunerative as ever, and with difficulty he provided the household with food. One gleam of light kept up the courage of the family: the aged relative was known to be so infirm that he could only leave the house in a bath-chair; every day there might be news even yet more promising. Meanwhile, the girl of sixteen exercised her incompetence in the meaner departments of domestic life, and Miss Shepperson did all the work that required care or common-sense, the duties of nursemaid alone taking a great deal of her time. On the whole, this employment seemed to suit her; she had a look of improved health, enjoyed more equable spirits, and in her manner showed more self-confidence. Once a month she succeeded in getting a few hours’ holiday, and paid a visit to one or the other of her sisters; but to neither of them did she tell the truth regarding her position in the house at Hammersmith. Now and then, when every one else under the roof was asleep, she took from a locked drawer in her bedroom a little account-book, and busied herself with figures. This she found an enjoyable moment; it was very pleasant indeed to make the computation of what the Rymers owed to her, a daily-growing debt of which the payment could not now be long delayed. She did not feel quite sure with regard to the interest, but the principal of the debt was very easily reckoned, and it would make a nice little sum to put by. Certainly Miss Shepperson was not unhappy.

Mrs. Rymer was just able to resume her normal habits, to write many letters, teach her children, pay visits in distant parts of London–the care of the baby being still chiefly left to Miss Shepperson–when, on a pleasant day of spring, a little before lunch-time, Mr. Rymer rushed into the house, calling in an agitated voice his wife’s name. Miss Shepperson was the only person at home, for Mrs. Rymer had gone out with the children, the servant accompanying her to wheel baby’s perambulator; she ran up from the kitchen, aproned, with sleeves rolled to the elbow, and met the excited man as he descended from a vain search in the bedrooms.

‘Has it happened?’ she cried–for it seemed to her that there could be only one explanation of Mr. Rymer’s behaviour.

‘Yes! He died this morning–this morning!’

They clasped hands; then, as an afterthought, their eyes fell, and they stood limply embarrassed.

‘It seems shocking to take the news in this way,’ murmured Mr. Rymer; ‘but the relief; oh, the relief! And then, I scarcely knew him; we haven’t seen each other for years. I can’t help it! I feel as if I had thrown off a load of tons! Where is Adelaide? Which way have they gone?’

He rushed out again, to meet his wife. For several minutes Miss Shepperson stood motionless, in a happy daze, until she suddenly remembered that chops were at the kitchen fire, and sped downstairs.

Throughout that day, and, indeed, for several days to come, Mrs. Rymer behaved very properly indeed; her pleasant, refined face wore a becoming gravity, and when she spoke of the deceased she called him poor Mr. So-and-so. She did not attend the funeral, for baby happened to be ailing, but Mr. Rymer, of course, went. He, in spite of conscientious effort to imitate his wife’s decorum, frequently betrayed the joy which was in his mind; Miss Shepperson heard him singing as he got up in the morning, and noticed that he ate with unusual appetite. The house brightened. Before the end of a week smiles and cheerful remarks ruled in the family; sorrows were forgotten, and everybody looked forward to the great day of settlement.