On his part, the weight of his secret, when they thus met, face to face, was insupportable. The wild rush of impulse combated by inflexible resolution, created a conflict in his breast beyond his capacity of endurance. He could not have prolonged a conversation with her. It was shocking to feel himself unknown; it was shocking to feel that he might betray himself. But he could watch her from his window. He knew now her hours of going and coming, and would station himself behind the curtain, and follow her with exquisite tenderness in his eyes, and sadness, crueller than words can tell, in his heart. How was this all to end? Here was the thought that now tormented him. Six weeks had passed since he came to Hanwitch. He was living frugally, indeed; and of the money he had brought with him from Australia a large portion still remained. But his few hundred pounds made a very slender capital; and when they were spent what then? He knew very well that he could return to Sydney, that Mr. Sherman would welcome him back, and reinstate him in his old post. But the mere thought of leaving England was misery to him. Suppose, under any plea, he obtained Dolly’s leave to take Nelly with him, could he part from Dolly? He might never see her again. Then let him think of her companion; of the sordid, hungry life he _knew_ she was leading--knew, though he could devise no expedient for relieving her, that might not be resented as an affront and lose him Nelly’s companionship. He would rather have her in her grave than leave her as she was. If urgent distress should ever come upon her, he would be at hand to succour and support her. And that such urgent distress _must_ come sooner or later--that the day sooner or later _must_ arrive when she and her child would be without a home, he had but to watch the maundering man who passed his windows backwards and forwards day after day, aimless, sodden, and growing shabbier and shabbier every week in his appearance, to know. CHAPTER XXIX. A VISIT. How was Holdsworth to get a living? For what was he fit? He was a good clerk; Mr. Sherman had called him so, at least; Hanwitch was a tolerably large place, and he ought to find no difficulty in obtaining employment. At any rate, he must try. One morning he put on his hat and walked into the town. When he reached the High Street, he stopped and considered. There was a bank; he could apply there. Then there was a brewery. If these failed, there remained an insurance office. These represented polite avocations.