city; that he might ask for her, and would wonder and grow uneasy at her
absence. She must go home, that was her first thought. She hurried her
steps, anxious to take the first turning which would lead to the
Embankment.

She had turned down a side street and was walking rapidly, when she
heard her name called suddenly and eagerly, and a woman, very shabbily
dressed, came up to her.

"Oh, Miss Harman--Miss Harman--don't you know me?"

Charlotte put her hand to her brow.

"Yes," she said, "I know you now; you are Hester Wright. Is your husband
out of prison yet?"

"He is, Miss, and he's dying; he's dying 'ard, 'ard; he's allers saying
as he wants to see either you or his master. We are told that the master
is ill; but oh! miss, miss, ef you would come and see him, he's dreadful
anxious--dreadful, dreadful anxious. I think it's jest some'ut on his
mind; ef he could tell it, I believe as he'd die easy. Oh! my beautiful,
dear young lady, every one has a good word for you. Oh! I was going to
make bold to come to Prince's Gate, and ask you to come to see him.
You'll never be sorry, miss, if you can help a poor soul to die easy."

"You say he is really dying?" said Charlotte.

"Yes, indeed, indeed, miss; he never held up his head since he saw the
inside of the prison. He's dying now of a galloping waste, so the
doctors say. Oh! Miss Harman, I'll bless you for ever if you'll come and
see him."

"Yes, I will come," said Charlotte. "Where do you live?"

"Away over at Poplar, miss. Poor place enough, and unfit for one like
you, but I'll come and fetch you my own self, and not a pin's worth of
harm shall come to you; you need have no cause to fear. When shall I
come for you, my dear, dear young lady?"

"The man is dying, you say," said Charlotte. "Death doesn't wait for our
convenience; I will come with you now. My carriage is waiting quite
near, I must go and give directions to the coachman: you can come with
me: I will then get a cab and drive to see your husband."

After this the two women--the rich and the poor--walked on side by side,
quickly and in silence. The heart of the one was dry and parched with
the sudden fire of that anguish and shame, the heart of the other was so
soothed, so thankful, that soft tears came, to be wiped stealthily away.

"Ain't she an angel?" she said to herself, knowing nothing, guessing
less, of the storm which raged within her companion's soul; "and won't
my poor Dan die easy now?"