"And now, Esther," finished Mrs. Mortomley, "you know precisely how we are situated at present. How we shall be situated in the future I have not any idea. Cook and Jane, as you are aware, have given me notice, and I think it might be well for you to look out too." "Never, ma'am," was the answer. "I would rather have a crust with you than joints every day with another mistress. And it don't matter about wages, ma'am," she went on; "I don't want no wages till you can afford to give them." For once Mrs. Mortomley rose to the occasion, and held her impulses well in hand, while she answered, "You had better go to bed Esther, and we will talk all this over again in a day or two. Twelve o'clock at night is not the time for you to make or for me to accept such an offer; because it may mar a good part of your future, my dear," she added softly. Already Dolly was beginning to understand the most beautiful part of life is that which returns a second time no more. Till the green leaves of her youth were lying brown and withered under her feet, she never realised that she had left behind for ever the flowery dells bright with primroses and sweet with violets; that spring for her was over--and not spring merely, but summer also. Summer roses would greet new-comers along time's highway, but charm her with perfume and colour, with the seductive and subtle charm of old, never again--ah! never. And she had loved the world and its pleasures with a love which seemed to duller natures almost wicked in its intensity; and the world was now turning its dark side to her, and its pleasures were for others, not for her. Well, should she grumble? Those who imagined Mrs. Mortomley would bemoan herself when the cake was eaten were wrong. All she asked now was, that the figurative, dry morsel, which promised to furnish their future wants, should be swallowed in peace. "Without those dreadful men, and the fear of them," she whispered in her prayers. What had she not gone through at Homewood by reason of persons left in possession? But the end was drawing nigh. It was so near that when Rupert told her a "man" had been sent in at the instance of one creditor, and a couple of hours after Esther came with a frightened face to say there was "another of those people," she only said, "Very well." She said the same, only more wearily, in answer to the two servants who, having given notice previously, now wished to leave at once, having heard of situations likely to suit. "Supposing we had arranged to give a dinner party to-day, Rupert!" she remarked, with an attempt at cheerfulness. Rupert did not answer. He was white almost to his lips. He had begun to realise their position, to understand fully what Mortomley's too tardy liquidation might mean to Mortomley's relatives.