Evarne remained stationary. "Walk inside, miss," cried the man, as the crowd jostled, and others claimed his attention. The girl obeyed. In its turn her choice was put on the scales. "Thirteen ounces, sevenpence-halfpenny," cried the weigher, wrapping it up with all speed in a bit of newspaper and handing it over. Only then did it dawn on Evarne that this universal price of tenpence meant nothing more nor less than tenpence a pound, and thus the mystery was explained! Until recently she would have laughed merrily over such an incident, but now all life was the colour of tragedy. She saw in this absurd little incident only an allegory of her all-round practical ignorance, her incapacity, her sordid position, and the general misery and humiliation of her probable future. She returned home weary and dejected, and that night likewise soaked her pillow with tears. She breakfasted in bed, then dressed and went out to get a newspaper to study the list of situations vacant. Buying two or three she inquired the way to the nearest public gardens. The policeman directed her to Hyde Park, and ere long she was seated facing the Row, idly watching the equestrians as they cantered past. How cheerful, how light-hearted, they all seemed! People on foot, even though richly clad, often looked discontented and ill-natured. Those driving in the finest of motors, or the most splendid of carriages, with prancing horses and all outward tokens of luxury, might appear dreadfully bored with existence; but one and all who were mounted upon these well-groomed steeds on this fresh spring morning appeared to radiate health and happiness as they passed. It was scarcely a kind Fate that brought Evarne to this spot, with the very papers in her hand in which she hoped to find the printed announcement of some quiet little corner in the labour market into which she might creep to earn mere bread and cheese. She looked with eyes that were frankly envious upon the riders. How unfair it seemed that some people should have so much money and others none at all unless they either slaved or sinned. Had she been plunged into poverty with Morris still true--still loving her--she could have faced the turn of Fortune's wheel with a stout heart and a cheery smile. But the stroke that had been dealt to her affections seemed to have crushed her very spirit. Nor had she any, save her own moral resources, upon which to lean for support. This would have seemed a period when the glorious and elevating influence of Socrates should have had power to lift her into lofty realms of philosophical resignation. But for the greatest of her griefs, the most gnawing, the most unendurable, the teacher was worse than useless. Scant comfort does he give to those whose love is unhappy. On the contrary, his words, his ideas, as they had been interpreted by Evarne, merely served to gall the wound, and she dared not dwell upon them.