the
table, saying aside to Mrs. Mutimer that she must be going.

'Yes, I suppose you must,' was the reply. 'Shall you have to sit up with
Jane?'

'Not all night, I don't expect.'

Richard likewise left his place, and, when she offered to bid him
good-night, said that he would walk a little way with her. In the
passage above, which was gas-lighted, he found his hat on a nail, and
the two left the house together.

'Don't you really mind?' Emma asked, looking up into his face as they
took their way out of the square.

'Not I! I can get a job at Baldwin's any day. But I dare say I shan't
want one long.'

'Not want work?'

He laughed.

'Work? Oh, plenty of work; but perhaps not the same kind. We want men
who can give their whole time to the struggle--to go about lecturing and
the like. Of course, it isn't everybody can do it.'

The remark indicated his belief that he knew one man not incapable of
leading functions.

'And would they pay you?' Emma inquired, simply.

'Expenses of that kind are inevitable,' he replied.

Issuing into the New North Road, where there were still many people
hastening one way and the other, they turned to the left, crossed the
canal--black and silent--and were soon among narrow streets. Every
corner brought a whiff of some rank odour, which stole from closed shops
and warehouses, and hung heavily on the still air. The public-houses had
just extinguished their lights, and in the neighbourhood of each was a
cluster of lingering men and women, merry or disputatious. Mid-Easter
was inviting repose and festivity; to-morrow would see culmination of
riot, and after that it would only depend upon pecuniary resources how
long the muddled interval between holiday and renewed labour should drag
itself out.

The end of their walk was the entrance to a narrow passage, which, at a
few yards' distance, widened itself and became a street of four-storeyed
houses. At present this could not be discerned; the passage was a mere
opening into massive darkness. Richard had just been making inquiries
about Emma's sister.

'You've had the doctor?'

'Yes, we're obliged; she does so dread going to the hospital again. Each
time she's longer in getting well.'

Richard's hand was in his pocket; he drew it out and pressed something
against the girl's palm.

'Oh, how can I?' she said, dropping her eyes. 'No--don't--I'm ashamed.'

'That's all right,' he urged, not unkindly. 'You'll have to get her what
th