m, and the look of it became
even more sullen. Could it be possible that at such a moment she
still had a hope that he might come back to her?

"Good-bye, Amelia," he said, putting out his hand to her.

"And this is to be the last of you in this house!"

"Well, I don't know about that. I'll come and call upon you, if
you'll let me, when you're married."

"Yes," she said, "that there may be rows in the house, and noise, and
jealousy,--as there have been with that wicked woman upstairs. Not if
I know it, you won't! John Eames, I wish I'd never seen you. I wish
we might have both fallen dead when we first met. I didn't think ever
to have cared for a man as I have cared for you. It's all trash and
nonsense and foolery; I know that. It's all very well for young
ladies as can sit in drawing-rooms all their lives, but when a woman
has her way to make in the world it's all foolery. And such a hard
way too to make as mine is!"

"But it won't be hard now."

"Won't it? But I think it will. I wish you would try it. Not that I'm
going to complain. I never minded work, and as for company, I can put
up with anybody. The world's not to be all dancing and fiddling for
the likes of me. I know that well enough. But--" and then she paused.

"What's the 'but' about, Amelia?"

"It's like you to ask me; isn't it?" To tell the truth he should not
have asked her. "Never mind. I'm not going to have any words with
you. If you've been a knave I've been a fool, and that's worse."

"But I don't think I have been a knave."

"I've been both," said the girl; "and both for nothing. After that
you may go. I've told you what I am, and I'll leave you to name
yourself. I didn't think it was in me to have been such a fool. It's
that that frets me. Never mind, sir; it's all over now, and I wish
you good-bye."

I do not think that there was the slightest reason why John should
have again kissed her at parting, but he did so. She bore it, not
struggling with him; but she took his caress with sullen endurance.
"It'll be the last," she said. "Good-bye, John Eames."

"Good-bye, Amelia. Try to make him a good wife and then you'll
be happy." She turned up her nose at this, assuming a look of
unutterable scorn. But she said nothing further, and then he left the
room. At the parlour door he met Mrs Roper, and had his parting words
with her.

"I am so glad you came," said she. "It was just that word you said
that made Miss Spruce stay. Her money is so