o Clara, Hewett now returned to her with this food. She was
sitting by the fire, her face resting upon her hands. The lamp was
extinguished; she had said that the firelight was enough. John
deposited his burden on the table, then touched her shoulder gently and
spoke in so soft a voice that one would not have recognised it as his.

'You'll try an' eat a little, my dear? Here's somethin' as has been
made particular. After travellin'--just a spoonful or two.'

Clara expressed reluctance.

'I don't feel hungry, father. Presently, perhaps.'

'Well, well; it do want to cool a bit. Do you feel able to sit up?'

'Yes. Don't take so much trouble, father. I'd rather you left me alone.'

The tone was not exactly impatient; it spoke a weary indifference to
everything and every person.

'Yes, I'll go away, dear. But you'll eat just a bit? If you don't like
this, you must tell me, and I'll get something you could fancy.'

'It'll do well enough. I'll eat it presently; I promise you.'

John hesitated before going.

'Clara--shall you mind Amy and Annie comin' to sleep here? If you'd
rather, we'll manage it somehow else.'

'No. What does it matter? They can come when they like, only they
mustn't want me to talk to them.'

He went softly from the room, and joined the children at their tea. His
mood had grown brighter. Though in talking he kept his tone much
softened, there was a smile upon his face, and he answered freely the
questions put to him about his journey. Overcome at first by the dark
aspect of this home-coming, he now began to taste the joy of having
Clara under his roof, rescued alike from those vague dangers of the
past and from the recent peril. Impossible to separate the sorrow he
felt for her blighted life, her broken spirit, and the solace lurking
in the thought that henceforth she could not abandon him. Never a word
to reproach her for the unalterable; it should be as though there were
no gap between the old love and its renewal in the present. For Clara
used to love him, and already she had shown that his tenderness did not
appeal to her in vain; during the journey she had once or twice pressed
his hand in gratitude. How well it was that he had this home in which
to receive her! Half a year ago, and what should he have done? He would
not admit to himself that there were any difficulties ahead; if it came
to that, he would manage to get some extra work in the evening and on
Saturday afternoons. He would tak