o hundred shillings. And they groaned over it--he and she--like
people with the stomachache. Why, the old fool died of nothing else; he
was worn out by the fear of having to go into a smaller house.'

Harvey would have liked to put a question: was it possible that the
daughter of such people could be endowed with virtues such as become
the wife of a comparatively poor man? But he had to ask it merely in
his own thoughts. Before long, no doubt, he would meet the lady herself
and appease his curiosity.

Whilst they were talking, there came a knock at the door; the shopman
announced two ladies, who wished to inquire about some photographic
printing.

'Will you see them, Rolfe?' asked Cecil. 'I don't feel like it--indeed
I don't. You'll be able to tell them all they want.'

Harvey found himself equal to the occasion, and was glad of it; he
needed occupation of some kind to keep his thoughts from an unpleasant
subject. After another talk with Morphew, in which they stuck to
business, he set off homeward.

Here news awaited him. On his arrival all seemed well; Ruth opened the
door, answered his greeting in her quiet, respectful way, and at once
brought tea to the study. When he rang to have the things taken away,
Ruth again appeared, and he saw now that she had something unusual to
say.

'I didn't like to trouble you the first thing, sir,' she began--'but
Sarah left yesterday without giving any notice; and I think it's
perhaps as well she did, sir. I've heard some things about her not at
all nice.'

'We must find someone else, then,' replied Harvey. 'It's lucky she
didn't go at a less convenient time. Was there some unpleasantness
between you?'

'I had warned her, for her own good, sir, that was all. And there's
something else I had perhaps better tell you now, sir.' Her voice, with
its pleasant Welsh accent, faltered ominously. 'I'm very sorry indeed
to say it, sir, but I shall be obliged to leave as soon as Mrs. Rolfe
can spare me.'

Harvey was overwhelmed. He looked upon Ruth as a permanent member of
the household. She had made herself indispensable; to her was owing the
freedom from domestic harassment which Alma had always enjoyed--a most
exceptional blessing, yet regarded, after all this time, as a matter of
course. The departure of Ruth meant conflict with ordinary servants, in
which Alma would assuredly be worsted. At this critical moment of their
life, scarcely could anything more disastrous have happened