Bella sighed, thinking of the harassed housekeeper at home. For the rich manufacturer’s wife such small cares were vanity, but for Mrs. Scratchell they were the serious things of life. With her it was not so much the question as to whether she had been cheated out of a pound or two of meat, but whether she could honestly afford a Sunday joint for her children. ‘Mr. Culverhouse said he would call again soon,’ said Mrs. Piper, and this gave Bella the hope of meeting him at the Park some morning. Before the week ended that hope was realized, and with its realization came another turning-point in Bella’s life--a meeting of roads, as in the choice of Hercules, when a man or woman goes to the right or left, choosing the broad smooth highway of inclination, or the narrow thorny path of duty, according as passion or conscience is ruler of fate. Bella had stopped later than usual one afternoon, Horne Tooke and Brougham having been stupid and rebellious to a degree that necessitated an exemplary punishment in the shape of three Latin verbs, and Elizabeth Fry having exhibited a deeper density than usual as to the intervals of the minor scale. These difficulties had prolonged the morning’s lessons until after the children’s dinner, and it was nearly four o’clock when Bella, thoroughly wearied out, put on her neat little black bonnet and bade her sullen pupils good-bye. ‘I hope you don’t bear malice, Elizabeth,’ she said at parting. ‘I am obliged to be a little severe about those scales. It’s for your good, you know. It can’t make any difference to me whether you know how to change the major into minor.’ ‘And I’m sure I don’t see that it can make any difference to me,’ protested the injured Elizabeth. ‘I am not going to be a governess.’ ‘Very fortunate for you, my dear,’ answered Bella, lightly, ‘for if you were obliged to get your living in that way, you would have to be one of the poor things who don’t object to make themselves generally useful; which means that they are to make all their pupils’ clothes, and work a great deal harder than housemaids.’ And, with this arrow shot over Elizabeth Fry’s dull head, Bella pulled on her gloves and departed, In the hall she met Cyril going away. He greeted her with friendliness, and they went out into the wintry twilight together. ‘I am glad you have been to see Mrs. Piper again,’ said Bella, ‘your visits have done her so much good.’ ‘I am very happy to hear that. She is a kindly, simple-hearted creature, sorely tried by prosperity, which is for some natures a harder ordeal than adversity.’ They walked on for some distance in silence, Bella looking thoughtfully at her companion, every now and then, speculating upon the causes of his absent manner and troubled face. ‘I am afraid you have been working too hard lately, Mr. Culverhouse,’ she said at last. ‘You are looking ill and wearied.’