g,
disappointing day his heart would be hammering dully with fear for his
loved one.

As the months wore on his face became lined with care, and the bright
gold of his hair dimmed with streaks of silver. But he never faltered
or lost courage. He always felt he must win the fight now for existence
as he meant to win the greater conflict later--for liberty.

Angela, lying so still, through the long days, could only hope. She
felt so helpless. It was woman's weakness that brought men like
O'Connell to the edge of despair. And hers was not merely bodily
weakness but the mare poignant one of PRIDE. Was it fair to her
husband? Was it just? In England she had prosperous relatives. They
would not let her die in her misery. They could not let her baby come
into the world with poverty as its only inheritance. Till now she had
been unable to master her feeling of hatred and bitterness for her
brother Nathaniel; her intense dislike and contempt for her sister
Monica. From the time she left England she had not written to either of
them. Could she now? Something decided her.

One night O'Connell came back disheartened. Try as he would, he could
not conceal it. He was getting to the end of his courage. There was
insufficient work at the shop he had been working in for several weeks.
He had been told he need not come again.

Angela, lying motionless and white, tried to comfort him and give him
heart.

She made up her mind that night. The next day she wrote to her brother.

She could not bring herself to express one regret for what she had done
or said. On the contrary she made many references to her happiness with
the man she loved. She did write of the hardships they were passing
through. But they were only temporary. O'Connell was so clever--so
brilliant--he must win in the end. Only just now she was ill. She
needed help. She asked no gift--a loan--merely. They would pay it back
when the days of plenty came. She would not ask even this were it not
that she was not only ill, but the one great wonderful thing in the
world was to be vouchsafed her--motherhood. In the name of her unborn
baby she begged him to send an immediate response.

She asked a neighbour to post the letter so that O'Connell would not
know of her sacrifice. She waited anxiously for a reply.

Some considerable time afterwards--on the eve of her travail and when
things with O'Connell were at their worst--the answer came by cable.

She was alone when it came.