But the effort of speaking was too much for her, and a bitter sob caught her in the throat. "You had better tell me your trouble, Esther; even if I cannot help you it will ease your heart to tell me about it. I hope nothing is the matter with Jackie?" "No, miss, no; thank God, he's well enough. It's nothing to do with him; leastways--" Then with a violent effort she put back her tears. "Oh, it is silly of me," she said, "and your dinner getting cold." "I don't want to pry into your affairs, Esther, but you know that----" "Yes, miss, I know you to be kindness itself; but there's nothing to be done but to bear it. You asked me just now if it had anything to do with Jackie. Well, it is no more than that his father has come back." "But surely, Esther, that's hardly a reason for sorrow; I should have thought that you would have been glad." "It is only natural that you should think so, miss; them what hasn't been through the trouble never thinks the same as them that has. You see, miss, it is nearly nine years since I've seen him, and during them nine years I 'ave been through so much. I 'ave worked and slaved, and been through all the 'ardship, and now, when the worst is over, he comes and wants me to marry him when he gets his divorce." "Then you like some one else better?" "Yes, miss, I do, and what makes it so 'ard to bear is that for the last two months or more I've been keeping company with Fred Parsons--that's the stationer's assistant; you've seen him in the shop, miss--and he and me is engaged to be married. He's earning good money, thirty shillings a week; he's as good a young man as ever stepped--religious, kind-hearted, everything as would make a woman 'appy in 'er 'ome. It is 'ard for a girl to keep up with 'er religion in some of the situations we have to put up with, and I'd mostly got out of the habit of chapel-going till I met him; it was 'e who led me back again to Christ. But for all that, understanding very well, not to say indulgent for the failings of others, like yourself, miss. He knew all about Jackie from the first, and never said nothing about it, but that I must have suffered cruel, which I have. He's been with me to see Jackie, and they both took to each other wonderful like; it couldn't 'ave been more so if 'e'd been 'is own father. But now all that's broke up, for when Fred meets William it is as likely as not as he'll think quite different." The evening died behind the red-brick suburb, and Miss Rice's strip of garden grew greener. She had finished her dinner, and she leaned back thinking of the story she had heard. She was one of those secluded maiden ladies so common in England, whose experience of life is limited to a tea party, and whose further knowledge of life is derived from the yellow-backed French novels which fill their bookcases. "How was it that you happened to meet William--I think you said his name was William?"