"But why should you go to the workhouse? I offer you fourteen pounds a year and everything found." "You see, miss, I've a baby; we've been in the workhouse already; I had to go there the night I left my situation, to get him away from Mrs. Spires; she wanted to kill him; she'd have done it for five pounds--that's the price. But, miss, my story is not one that can be told to a lady such as you." "I think I'm old enough to listen to your story; sit down, and tell it to me." And all the while Miss Rice's eyes were filled with tenderness and pity. "A very sad story--just such a story as happens every day. But you have been punished, you have indeed." "Yes, miss, I think I have; and after all these years of striving it is hard to have to take him back to the workhouse. Not that I want to give out that I was badly treated there, but it is the child I'm thinking of. He was then a little baby and it didn't matter; we was only there a few months. There's no one that knows of it but me. But he's a growing boy now, he'll remember the workhouse, and it will be always a disgrace." "How old is he?" "He was six last May, miss. It has been a hard job to bring him up. I now pay six shillings a week for him, that's more than fourteen pounds a year, and you can't do much in the way of clothes on two pounds a year. And now that he's growing up he's costing more than ever; but Mrs. Lewis--that's the woman what has brought him up--is as fond of him as I am myself. She don't want to make nothing out of his keep, and that's how I've managed up to the present. But I see well enough that it can't be done; his expense increases, and the wages remains the same. It was my pride to bring him up on my earnings, and my hope to see him an honest man earning good money. But it wasn't to be, miss, it wasn't to be. We must be humble and go back to the workhouse." "I can see that it has been a hard fight." "It has indeed, miss; no one will ever know how hard. I shouldn't mind if it wasn't going to end by going back to where it started.... They'll take him from me; I shall never see him while he is there. I wish I was dead, miss, I can't bear my trouble no longer." "You shan't go back to the workhouse so long as I can help you. Esther, I'll give you the wages you ask for. It is more than I can afford. Eighteen pounds a year! But your child shall not be taken from you. You shall not go to the workhouse. There aren't many such good women in the world as you, Esther." XXIII From the first Miss Rice was interested in her servant, and encouraged her confidences. But it was some time before either was able to put aside her natural reserve. They were not unlike--quiet, instinctive Englishwomen, strong, warm natures, under an appearance of formality and reserve. The instincts of the watch-dog soon began to develop in Esther, and she extended her supervision over all the household expenses, likewise over her mistress's health.