"Yes, miss; he spoke to me about religion, but I told him I didn't want Jackie to be a fatherless boy, and to lose any money he might have a right to. It don't look right to go and live with a married man; but you knows, miss, how I'm situated, and you knows that I'm only doing it because it seems for the best." "What did he say to that?" "Nothing much, miss, except that I might get left a second time--and, he wasn't slow to add, with another child." "Have you thought of that danger, Esther?" "Yes, miss, I've thought of everything; but thinking don't change nothing. Things remain just the same, and you've to chance it in the end--leastways a woman has. Not on the likes of you, miss, but the likes of us." "Yes," said Miss Rice reflectively, "it is always the woman who is sacrificed." And her thought went back for a moment to the novel she was writing. It seemed to her pale and conventional compared with this rough page torn out of life. She wondered if she could treat the subject. She passed in review the names of some writers who could do justice to it, and then her eyes went from her bookcase to Esther. "So you're going to live in a public-house, Esther? You're going to-night? I've paid you everything I owe you?" "Yes, miss, you have; you've been very kind to me, indeed you have, miss--I shall never forget you, miss. I've been very happy in your service, and should like nothing better than to remain on with you." "All I can say, Esther, is that you have been a very good servant, and I'm very sorry to part with you. And I hope you'll remember if things do not turn out as well as you expect them to, that I shall always be glad to do anything in my power to help you. You'll always find a friend in me. When are you going?" "As soon as my box is packed, miss, and I shall have about finished by the time the new servant comes in. She's expected at nine; there she is, miss--that's the area bell. Good-bye, miss." Miss Rice involuntarily held out her hand. Esther took it, and thus encouraged she said-- "There never was anyone that clear-headed and warm-hearted as yerself, miss. I may have a lot of trouble, miss.... If I wasn't yer servant I'd like to kiss you." Miss Rice did not answer, and before she was aware, Esther had taken her in her arms and kissed her. "You're not angry with me, miss; I couldn't help myself." "No, Esther, I'm not angry." "I must go now and let her in." Miss Rice walked towards her writing-table, and a sense of the solitude of her life coming upon her suddenly caused her to burst into tears. It was one of those moments of effusion which take women unawares. But her new servant was coming upstairs and she had to dry her eyes.