heerful; it had that serenity which comes of duties
honestly performed and a life tolerably free from sordid anxiety. More
than that could not be said of Emma's existence. But, such as it was,
it depended entirely upon her own effort. Adela, on the evening when
she first met her in the room where Mutimer lay dead, had read clearly
Emma's character; she knew that, though it was one of her strongest
desires to lighten the burden of this so sorely tried woman, direct aid
was not to be dreamt of. She had taken counsel with Stella, Stella with
her husband. After much vain seeking they discovered an opportunity of
work in this part of the East End. Mr. Westlake made it known to
Emma; she acknowledged that it would be better than the over-swarmed
neighbourhood in which she was living, and took the advice gratefully.
She had hopes, too, that Kate might be got away from her evil
companions. And indeed the change had not been without its effect on
Mrs. Clay; she worked more steadily, and gave more attention to her
children.

'She's just gone with the eldest to the hospital,' Emma replied to a
question of Adela's. 'He's got something the matter with his eyes. And
this one isn't at all well. He ought to be at school, only he's had such
a dreadful cough we're afraid to send him out just yet. They're neither
of them strong, I'm afraid.'

'And you--isn't your health better since you have lived here?' Adela
asked.

'I think so. But I never ail much as long as I have plenty of work to
do.'

'I am staying with a friend in London,' Adela said after a pause. 'I
thought I might come to see you. I hoped you would still be in the same
house.'

'Yes, we are very comfortable, very,' Emma replied. 'I hope we shan't
need to move for a long time; I'm sure we couldn't do better.'

She added, without raising her eyes:

'Thank you for coming.'

Adela knew that constraint between them was inevitable; it was enough
that Emma spoke with good-will.

'If ever you should have to move,' she said, 'will you let me know where
you go? I have written on this paper the address of my mother's house; I
live with her. Will you show me so much friendship?'

Emma glanced at her, and saw a look which recalled to her something she
had seen in those eyes before.

'I will write and tell you if we do move,' she said.

Adela went away with a heart not altogether sad; it was rather as though
she had been hearing solemn music, which stirred her soul even whil