obbing with passion; the effect upon
her of Waymark's comparative coldness was so much harder to bear than
she had imagined. Her mind tortured itself incessantly with the fear
that some new love had taken possession of him. And now there had
befallen her this new misfortune, which, it might be, would once more
bring about a crisis in her life.

Of course she must forthwith set about finding new work. It would be
difficult, seeing that she had now no reference to give. Reflection had
convinced her that it must have been some discovery of her former life
which had led to her sudden dismissal, and this increased her
despondency. Yet she would not give way to it. On the following morning
she began her search for employment, and day after day faced without
result the hateful ordeal. Hope failed as she saw her
painfully-eked-out coins become fewer and fewer. In a day or two she
would have nothing, and what would happen then?

When she returned to London to begin a new life, now nearly a year ago,
she had sold some and pawned the rest of such possessions as would in
future be useful to her. Part of the money thus obtained had bought the
furniture of her rooms; what remained had gone for a few months to
supplement her weekly wages, thus making the winter less a time of
hardship than it must otherwise have been. One or two articles yet
remained capable of being turned into small sums, and these she now
disposed of at a neighbouring pawnbroker's--the same she had previously
visited on the occasion of pawning one or two of the things, the
tickets for which Harriet Casti had so carefully inspected. She spoke
to no one of her position. Yet now the time was quickly coming when she
must either have help from some quarter or else give up her lodgings.
In food she was already stinting herself to the verge of starvation.
And through all this she had to meet her friends as hitherto, if
possible without allowing any trace of her suffering to become visible.
Harriet, strange to say, had been of late a rather frequent visitor,
and was more pressing than formerly in her invitations. Ida dreaded her
coming, as it involved the unwarrantable expense of obtaining luxuries
now unknown in her cupboard, such as tea and butter. And, on the other
hand, it was almost impossible to affect cheerfulness in the company of
the Castis. At times she caught Julian's eyes fixed upon her, and felt
that he noticed some change in her appearance. She had a sense o