‘Yes,’ said Hyacinth. ‘And then----’ He knew he had no right to ask a question about the future, but the thought of Mrs. Quinn and her children as he had seen them in the dining-room almost forced him to inquire what was to happen to them. A spasm of extreme pain crossed Mr. Quinn’s face. ‘You are thinking of my wife. It will be hard--yes, very hard. She loved this place, her friends here, her garden, and all the quiet, peaceful life we have lived. Well, there is to be an end of it. But don’t look so desperate.’ He forced himself to smile as he spoke. ‘We shall not starve or go to the workhouse. I have a knowledge of woollen goods if I have nothing else, and I dare say I can get an appointment as foreman or traveller for some big drapery house. But I may not be reduced to that. There is a secretary wanted just now in the office of one of the Dublin charitable societies. I mean to apply for the post. Canon Beecher and our Bishop are both members of the committee, and I am sure will do their best for me. The salary is not princely--a hundred and twenty pounds a year, I think. But there, I ought not to be talking all this time about myself. I must try and do something for you.’ ‘Never mind me,’ said Hyacinth; ‘I shall be all right. But I can’t bear to think of you and Mrs. Quinn. Poverty like that in Dublin! Have you thought what it means? A shabby little house in a crowded street, off at the back of somewhere; dirt and stuffiness and vulgarity all around you. She can’t be expected to stand it--or you either.’ ‘My dear boy,’ said Mr. Quinn, ‘my wife and I have been trying all our lives to be Christians. Shall we receive good at the Lord’s hand and not evil also? However it may be with me, I know that she will not fail in the trial.’ His face lit up as he spoke, and the smile on it was no longer forced, but clear and brave. Hyacinth knew that he was once again in the presence of that mysterious power which enables men and women to meet and conquer loss and pain, against which every kind of misfortune beats in vain. His eyes filled with tears as he took Mr. Quinn’s hand and bade him good-night. CHAPTER XIX