dinner."

"Surely there is no late dinner now?" exclaimed Effie.

"Oh, yes, miss; every evening Mr. Staunton requires a nice little bit of
dinner sent up when he comes home. You see, miss, it is quite impossible
for me to have extra fires without charging for them."

"Certainly. Well, I don't think there will be any extra dinner in
future. And now please tell me exactly how much is due to you."

"Four pounds, miss; but if I'm paid one, on account, I shan't mind
waiting. I'd be really sorry to dislodge such a nice lady as your
mother, Miss Staunton."

"Here is the money in full," said Effie. "Will you give me a receipt?"

"Oh, with pleasure, miss. Won't you sit down? I hope, Miss Staunton,
nothing will induce your good mother to move from here. I will do
everything in my power to make her comfortable."

"You must understand," said Effie, "that in future she only pays fifteen
shillings a week without extras. My sisters Agnes and Katie are quite
old enough to do all the waiting which my mother requires. In fact they
must do so, for we can't afford to pay a penny more."

"Am I to understand, miss, that there's no late dinner?"

"Certainly not."

"Very well; I am sure I'll do all in my power to oblige."

Effie left her, putting her receipt carefully in her pocket as she did
so. She went upstairs and entered the little sitting-room where her
mother was now pacing quickly and restlessly up and down. There was a
deep flush on her cheeks, and a look of despair in her eyes.

"Oh, Effie, you've come!" she exclaimed, the moment she saw her
daughter. "George has been in. There's something wrong, I know--I know
there is. He came in just for a minute and he kissed me, and said he
wasn't coming home to-night, and he--he looked _wild_. He stuffed a few
things into a bag, and said I wasn't to expect him back to-night. I
didn't dare ask him about the money. What--what can be the matter,
Effie?"

CHAPTER XXI.

Effie did all in her power to soothe her mother. It was past the hour
for her return to St. Joseph's, but under the present circumstances she
could not give this matter a thought. Mrs. Staunton was strung up to a
terrible condition of nervousness. She walked faster and faster about
the room; she scarcely spoke aloud, but muttered words under her breath
which no one could hear. At every footfall on the stairs she started.
Sometimes she went to the door and flung it open--sometimes she went to
the window and pr