"Why, ma'am, it is this way.... I hated being deceitful--indeed I did. But I can no longer think of myself. There is another to think for now." There was in Mrs. Barfield's look something akin to admiration, and she felt she had not been wholly wrong in her estimate of the girl's character; she said, and in a different intonation-- "Perhaps you were right, Esther. I couldn't have kept you on, on account of the bad example to the younger servants. I might have helped you with money. But six months alone in London and in your condition! ...I am glad you did not tell me, Esther; and as you say there is another to think of now, I hope you will never neglect your child, if God give it to you alive." "I hope not, ma'am; I shall try and do my best." "My poor girl! my poor girl! you do not know what trial is in store for you. A girl like you, and only twenty! ...Oh, it is a shame! May God give you courage to bear up in your adversity!" "I know there is many a hard time before me, but I have prayed for strength, and God will give me strength, and I must not complain. My case is not so bad as many another. I have nearly eight pounds. I shall get on, ma'am, that is to say if you will stand by me and not refuse me a character." "Can I give you a character? You were tempted, you were led into temptation. I ought to have watched over you better--mine is the responsibility. Tell me, it was not your fault." "It is always a woman's fault, ma'am. But he should not have deserted me as he did, that's the only thing I reproach him with, the rest was my fault--I shouldn't have touched the second glass of ale. Besides, I was in love with him, and you know what that is. I thought no harm, and I let him kiss me. He used to take me out for walks on the hill and round the farm. He told me he loved me, and would make me his wife--that's how it was. Afterwards he asked me to wait till after the Leger, and that riled me, and I knew then how wicked I had been. I would not go out with him or speak to him any more; and while our quarrel was going on Miss Peggy went after him, and that's how I got left." At the mention of Peggy's name a cloud passed over Mrs. Barfield's face. "You have been shamefully treated, my poor child. I knew nothing of all this. So he said he would marry you if he won his bet on the Leger? Oh, that betting! I know that nothing else is thought of here; upstairs and downstairs, the whole place is poisoned with it, and it is the fault of--" Mrs. Barfield walked hurriedly across the room, but when she turned the sight of Esther provoked her into speech. "I have seen it all my life, nothing else, and I have seen nothing come of it but sin and sorrow; you are not the first victim. Ah, what ruin, what misery, what death!" Mrs. Barfield covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out the memories that crowded upon her.