room but myself. I'll get my
bits o' meals from the kitchen. 'Tain't much as I want, thank goodness,
an' it won't be missed. I'll have no more doin's with servants,
understand that; an' if I can't be left alone i' my own room, I'll go
an' find a room where I can, an' I'll find some way of earnin' what
little I want. It's your own house, and you'll do what you like in it.
There's the keys, I've done with 'em; an' here's the money too, I'm glad
to be rid of it. An' you'll just tell Dick. I ain't one as says what I
don't mean, nor never was, as that you know. You take your way, an' I'll
take mine. An' now may be I'll get a night's sleep, the first I've had
under this roof.'

As she spoke she took from her pockets the house keys, and from her
purse the money she used for current expenses, and threw all together on
to the table. Alice had turned to the fireplace, and she stood so for a
long time after her mother had left the room. Then she took the keys and
the money, consulted her watch, and in a few minutes was walking from
the house to a neighbouring cab-stand.

She drove to Wilton Square. Inspecting the front of the house before
knocking at the door, she saw a light in the kitchen and a dimmer gleam
at an upper window. It was Mrs. Clay who opened to her.

'Is Emma in?' Alice inquired as she shook hands rather coldly.

'She's sitting with Jane. I'll tell her. There's no fire except in the
kitchen,' Kate added, in a tone which implied that doubtless her visitor
was above taking a seat downstairs.

'I'll go down,' Alice replied, with just a touch of condescension. 'I
want to speak a word or two with Emma, that's all.'

Kate left her to descend the stairs, and went to inform her sister. Emma
was not long in appearing; the hue of her face was troubled, for she had
deceived herself with the belief that it was Richard who knocked at the
door. What more natural than for him to have come on Christmas Eve?
She approached Alice with a wistful look, not venturing to utter any
question, only hoping that some good news might have been brought her.
Long watching in the sick room had given her own complexion the tint of
ill-health; her eyelids were swollen and heavy; the brown hair upon
her temples seemed to droop in languor. You would have noticed that her
tread was very soft, as if she still were moving in the room above.

'How's Jane?' Alice began by asking. She could not quite look the other
in the face, and did not know how