the same social difficulty would present itself. It was not
the future to which Mrs. Mutimer had looked forward, but, having said
her say, she resigned herself and hardened her heart. At least she would
die in the familiar home.

Richard had supper with his sister on his return from Commonwealth Hall,
and their plans were discussed in further detail.

'I want you,' he said, 'to go to the Square with mother to-morrow, and
to stay there till Wednesday. You won't mind doing that?'

'I think she'd do every bit as well without me,' said Alice.

'Never mind; I should like you to go. I'll take 'Arry down to-morrow
morning, then I'll come and fetch you on Wednesday. You'll just see that
everything's comfortable in the house, and buy her a few presents, the
kind of things she'd like.'

'I don't suppose she'll take anything.'

'Try, at all events. And don't mind her talk; it does no harm.'

In the morning came the letter from Daniel Dabbs. Richard read it
without any feeling of surprise, still less with indignation, at
the calumny of which it complained. During the night he had wondered
uneasily what might have occurred at the Hoxton meeting, and the result
was a revival of his ignoble anger against Emma. Had he not anxiety
enough that she must bring him new trouble when he believed that all
relations between him and her were at an end? Doubtless she was posing
as a martyr before all who knew anything of her story; why had she
refused his money, if not that her case might seem all the harder?
It were difficult to say whether he really believed this; in a nature
essentially egoistic, there is often no line to be drawn between genuine
convictions and the irresponsible charges of resentment. Mutimer had so
persistently trained himself to regard Emma as in the wrong, that it
was no wonder if he had lost the power of judging sanely in any matter
connected with her. Her refusal to benefit by his generosity had
aggravated him; actually, no doubt, because she thus deprived him of a
defence against his conscience.

He was not surprised that libellous rumours were afloat, simply because
since his yesterday's conversation with Keene the thought of justifying
himself in some such way--should it really prove necessary--had several
times occurred to him, suggested probably by Keene's own words. That
the journalist had found means of doing him this service was very likely
indeed. He remembered with satisfaction that no hint of such a t