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Rosamund was not listening, and the speaker became aware of it. Having a purpose in what he was about to say, he gently claimed her attention.

“I think Mrs. Halliday is the kind of woman who would interest you. If ever any one had a purpose in life, shehas.”

“Indeed? And what?”

“To keep house admirably, and bring up her children as well as possible, on an income which would hardly supply some women with shoe-leather.”

“Oh, that’s very dreadful!”

“Very fine, it seems to me. I never saw a woman for whom I could feel more respect. Halliday and she suit each other perfectly; they would be the happiest people in England if they had any money. As he walked back with me to the station he talked about their difficulties. They can’t afford to engage a good servant (if one exists nowadays), and cheap sluts have driven them frantic, so that Mrs. Halliday does everything with her own hands.”

“It must be awful.”

“Pretty hard, no doubt. She is an educated woman–otherwise, of course, she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, manage it. And, by-the-bye”–he paused for quiet emphasis–“she has a sister, unmarried, who lives in the country and does nothing at all. It occurs to one–doesn’t it?–that the idle sister might pretty easily find scope for herenergies.”

Rosamund stared at the ground. She was not so dull as to lose the significance of this story, and she imagined that Geoffrey reflected upon herself in relation to her own sister. She broke the long silence by saying awkwardly:

“I’m sure Iwould never allow a sister of mine to lead such a life.”

“I don’t think you would,” replied the other. And, though he spoke genially, Rosamund felt it a very moderate declaration of his belief in her. Overcome by strong feeling, she exclaimed:

“I would do anythingto be of use in the world. You don’t think I mean it, but I do, Mr. Hunt. I–“

Her voice faltered; the all-important word stuck in her throat. And at that moment Geoffrey rose.

“Shall we walk about? Let me show you my mother’s fernery. She is very proud of it.”

That was the end of intimate dialogue. Rosamund felt aggrieved, and tried to shape sarcasms, but the man’s imperturbable good-humour soon made her forget everything save the pleasure of being in his company. It was a bitter-sweet evening, yet perhaps enjoyment predominated. Of course, Geoffrey would conduct her to the station; she never lost sight of this hope. There would be another opportunity for plain speech. But her desire was frustrated; at the time of departure, Caroline said that they might as well all go together. Rosamund could have wept for chagrin.

She returned to the detested house, the hateful little bedroom, and there let her tears have way. In dread lest the hysterical sobs should be overheard, she all but stifled herself.

Then, as if by blessed inspiration, a great thought took shape in her despairing mind. At the still hour of night she suddenly sat up in the darkness, which seemed illumined by a wondrous hope. A few minutes motionless; the mental light grew dazzling; she sprang out of bed, partly dressed herself, and by the rays of a candle sat down to write a letter:

DEARMR. HUNT,

Yesterday I did not tell you the whole truth. I have nothing to live upon, and I mustfind employment or starve. My brother-in-law has been supporting me for a long time–I am ashamed to tell you, but I will, and he can do so no longer. I wanted to ask you for practical advice, but I did not make my meaning clear. For all that, you didadvise me, and very well indeed. I wish to offer myself as domestic help to poor Mrs. Halliday. Do you think she would have me? I ask no wages–only food and lodging. I will work harder and better than any general servants–I will indeed. My health is not bad, and I am fairly strong. Don’t–don’t throw scorn on this! Will you recommend me to Mrs. Halliday–or ask Mrs. Hunt to do so? I beg that you will. Please write to me at once, and say yes. I shall be ever grateful to you.