ooking-glass and gaze into her own
face. At such times her little countenance became very sad without any
understood reason.

The past summer had been to her a time of happiness, for there had come
comparatively little bad weather, and sunshine was like wine to Ida.
The proximity of the park was a great advantage. During the weeks of
summer holiday, she spent whole days wandering about the large, grassy
tracts by herself, rejoicing in the sensation of freedom from
task-work. If she were especially in luck, a dog would come and play
about her, deserting for a minute its lawful master or mistress, and
the child would roll upon the grass in delighted sport. Or she would
find out a warm, shady nook quite near to the borders of the Zoological
Gardens, and would lie there with ear eager to catch the occasional
sounds from the animals within. The roar of the lion thrilled her with
an exquisite trembling; the calls of the birds made her laugh with joy.
Once, three years ago, her mother had taken her to Hastings for a week,
and when she now caught the cry of the captive sea-gulls, it brought
back marvellous memories of the ocean flashing in the sun, of the music
of breakers, of the fresh smell of the brine.

Now there had come upon her the first great grief. She had caused her
mother bitter suffering, and her own heart was filled with a
commensurate pain. Had she been a little older she would already have
been troubled by another anxiety; for the last two years her mother's
health had been falling away; every now and then had come a fit of
illness, and at other times Lotty suffered from a depression of spirits
which left her no energy to move about. Ida knew that her mother was
often unhappy, but naturally could not dwell long on this as soon as
each successive occasion had passed away. Indeed, in her heart, she
almost welcomed such times, since she was then allowed to sleep
upstairs, one of her greatest joys. Lotty was only too well aware of
the physical weakness which was gaining upon her. She was mentally
troubled, moreover. Ida was growing up; there would come a time, and
that very shortly, when it would be necessary either for them to part,
or else for herself to change her mode of life. Indeed, she had never
from the first quite lost sight of her intention to seek for an honest
means of support; and of late years the consciousness of her hopeless
position had grown to an ever-recurring trouble. She knew the proposed
step