law.'

He laughed, and Emma did her best to show a smile. But she said nothing.

'But you _will_ come, now? You can lose just the one day? It'll do you
a power o' good. You'll work all the better on Tuesday, now see if you
don't. Why, it ain't worth livin', never to get a holiday.'

'I'm very sorry. It was very kind indeed of you to think of it, Mr.
Dabbs. I really can't come.'

He went again to the window, and thence to the children's bedside. He
bent a little and watched them breathing.

'Bertie's growin' a fine little lad.'

'Yes, indeed, he is.'

'He'll have to go to school soon, I s'pose--I'm afraid he gives you a
good deal of trouble, that is, I mean--you know how I mean it.'

'Oh, he is very good,' Emma said, looking at the sleeping face
affectionately.

'Yes, yes.'

Daniel had meant something different; he saw that Emma would not
understand him.

'We see changes in life,' he resumed, musingly. 'Now who'd a' thought I
should end up with having more money than I. know how to use? The 'ouse
has done well for eight years now, an' it's likely to do well for a good
many years yet, as far as I can see.'

'I am glad to hear that,' Emma replied constrainedly.

'Miss Vine, I wanted you to come to Epping Forest to-morrow because I
thought I should have a chance of a little talk. I don't mean that was
the only reason; it's too bad you never get a holiday, and I should
like it to a' done you good. But I thought I might a' found a chance o'
sayin' something, something I've thought of a long time, and that's the
honest truth. I want to help you and your sister and the young 'uns,
but _you_ most of all. I don't like to see you livin' such a hard life,
'cause you deserve something better, if ever anyone did. Now will you
let me help you? There's only one way, and it's the way I'd like best of
any. The long an' the short of it is, I want to ask you if you'll come
an' live at the 'ouse, come and bring Mrs. Clay an' the children?'

Emma looked at him in surprise and felt uncertain of his meaning, though
his speech had painfully prepared her with an answer.

'I'd do my right down best to make you a good 'usband, that I would,
Emma!' Daniel hurried on, getting flustered. 'Perhaps I've been a bit
too sudden? Suppose we leave it till you've had time to think over? It's
no good talking to you about money an' that kind o' thing; you'd marry a
poor man as soon as a rich, if only you cared in the right way for
him. I wo