y never rise from it again; the children have
no clothes; they are pawned; everything is pawned; this morning we had
neither fuel, nor food. And we thought you had come for the rent which
we cannot pay. If it had not been for a dish of tea which was charitably
given me this morning by a person almost as poor as ourselves that is to
say, they live by labour, though their wages are much higher, as high as
two pounds a-week, though how that can be I never shall understand, when
my husband is working twelve hours a day, and gaining only a penny an
hour--if it had not been for this I should have been a corpse; and yet
he says we were in straits, merely because Walter Gerard's daughter, who
I willingly grant is an angel from heaven for all the good she has done
us, has stepped into our aid. But the poor supporting the poor, as she
well says, what good can come from that!"

During this ebullition, Mr St Lys had surveyed the apartment and
recognised Sybil.

"Sister," he said when the wife of Warner had ceased, "this is not the
first time we have met under the roof of sorrow."

Sybil bent in silence, and moved as if she were about to retire: the
wind and rain came dashing against the window. The companion of Mr St
Lys, who was clad in a rough great coat, and was shaking the wet off an
oilskin hat known by the name of a 'south-wester,' advanced and said to
her, "It is but a squall, but a very severe one; I would recommend you
to stay for a few minutes."

She received this remark with courtesy but did not reply.

"I think," continued the companion of Mr St Lys, "that this is not the
first time also that we have met?"

"I cannot recall our meeting before," said Sybil.

"And yet it was not many days past; though the sky was so very
different, that it would almost make one believe it was in another land
and another clime."

Sybil looked at him as if for explanation.

"It was at Marney Abbey," said the companion of Mr St Lys.

"I was there; and I remember, when about to rejoin my companions, they
were not alone."

"And you disappeared; very suddenly I thought: for I left the ruins
almost at the same moment as your friends, yet I never saw any of you
again."

"We took our course; a very rugged one; you perhaps pursued a more even
way."

"Was it your first visit to Marney?"

"My first and my last. There was no place I more desired to see; no
place of which the vision made me so sad."

"The glory has departed," said E