My mother smiled and said no more. I left the room, knowing that she would make no opposition to my going to town on the following morning. When the day broke, I got up early, for I felt too restless to sleep. I wore my best dress when I came down to breakfast; and when my father and brothers were ready to start for London, I accompanied them. On the way up I noticed how ill Jack looked. He had a much nicer face than George, and I could have been fond of him had he ever shown the slightest desire to win my regard. But from his babyhood he was reserved and morose, and shared my father's ideas with regard to women. Jack was serving his time to a solicitor in the City. At present he was earning no money, but the happy day when he could add to the family purse, and so relieve some of the dreadful burden of penury and scanty living, was not far distant. In two months' time he was to earn sufficient to pay his weekly mite to the household exchequer. George, who was three years older than Jack, was doing quite comfortably as a clerk at Lloyd's, and already spoke of taking a wife, and having a home of his own. I used to wonder what sort of a girl George would marry. I must frankly say I did not envy her her husband. This morning I found myself seated _by_ Jack's side in the railway carriage. "How is your headache?" I whispered to him. He looked round and favoured me with an almost glassy stare. He knew I spoke to him, but had not heard my question. I repeated it. "Oh, better, better," he said hurriedly. "Don't speak of it, there's a good girl," and he lay back against the cushions and closed his eyes. I felt sure at once it was not better, but it was like Jack to shut himself out from all sympathy. We got to Paddington in good time, and I once more found myself in an omnibus which would convey me to Regent Circus. Presently I got there. I had made all my plans beforehand. I was a curious mixture of the practical and romantic, and I thought it best not to rely entirely on myself in choosing the jeweller who would value my ring. I wanted to get at the real value, and a jeweller who naturally would suppose I wished him to be a purchaser, would think it his province to run the ring down. I knew a girl from our village, who was serving her time now to a dressmaker in Great Portland Street. The girl's name was Susan Ford. She had often helped me to turn my dresses, and was a very sensible, matter-of-fact, honest sort of girl. I knew she would do anything for me, and as she had been over a year in London, she must have a tolerably wide experience to guide her. Regent Circus was only a few steps from Madame Leroy's address. The house bore the customary brass plate on its door. I pulled the bell, and a boy in buttons answered my summons. "Is Susan Ford in?" I asked. The boy stared at me from head to foot, and made a supercilious and irrelevant reply.