d have constantly sought information about your grand work
at New Wanley. Now I venture to write (by the hand of a dear friend),
to express my admiration for your high endeavour, and my grief at the
circumstances which have made you powerless to continue it.

'I am possessed of means, and, as you see, can spend but little on
myself. I ask you, with much earnestness, to let me be of some small
use to the cause of social justice, by putting, in your hands the sum of
five hundred pounds, to be employed as may seem good to you. I need not
affect to be ignorant of your position, and it is my great fear lest
you should be unable to work for Socialism with your undivided energies.
Will you accept this money, and continue by means of public lecturing
to spread the gospel of emancipation? That I am convinced is your
first desire. If you will do me this great kindness, I shall ask your
permission to arrange that the same sum be paid to you annually, for
the next ten years, whether I still live or not. To be helping in this
indirect way would cheer me more than you can think. I enclose a draft
on Messrs.--.

'As I do not know your private address, I send this to the office of
the "Piery Cross." Pardon me for desiring to remain anonymous; many
reasons necessitate it. If you grant me this favour, will you advertise
the word "Accepted" in the "Times" newspaper within ten days?

'With heartfelt sympathy and admiration, 'I sign myself, 'A FRIEND.'

Adela was unmoved; she returned the letter as if it had no interest for
her.

'What do you think of that?' said Mutimer, forgetting their differences
in his exultation.

'I am glad you can continue your work,' Adela replied absently.

She was moving away when he again stopped her.

'Look here, Adela.' He hesitated. 'Are you still angry with me?'

She was silent.

'I am sorry I lost my temper. I didn't mean all I said to you. Will you
try and forget it?'

Her lips spoke for her.

'I will try.'

'You needn't go on doing housework now,' he said assuringly. 'Are you
going? Come and say good-night.'

He approached her and laid his hand upon her shoulder. Adela shrank from
his touch, and for an instant gazed at him with wide eyes of fear.

He dropped his hands and let her go.

CHAPTER XXIX

The valley rested. On the morning of Mutimer's departure from Wanley
there was no wonted clank of machinery, no smoke from the chimneys, no
roar of iron-smelting furnaces; the men