On the death of Emma's father, she found herself, with a widowed mother, deprived, at one stroke, of nearly all the comforts, and the means of procuring them, which she had enjoyed during her father's lifetime. A small jointure of thirty pounds a-year was all that remained to her mother, for her father had died insolvent. This thirty pounds a-year Emma thought might support her mother, if she could support herself. Determined to burden no one for her subsistence, and believing that humble servitude was, in the eyes of Heaven and of men, more honourable than a mean and degrading dependence on the bounty of friends for a precarious supply of our temporary wants. Her mother strenuously opposed Emma's resolution of going to service. She would subject herself to any privations, rather than her young and lovely daughter would be reduced to this severe necessity--she would work for hire--she would beg--she would borrow--she should almost steal, rather than Emma should be compelled to labour. Her mother's entreaties, however, so far from having the desired effect of preventing her going to service, only confirmed Emma in her previous resolution. Should she be a burden to her mother--to that mother who expressed so tender a solicitation for her welfare--who was rapidly descending the downhill of life--who had all her days been accustomed to the elegances of taste? No, no; rather than take anything from her, she would add a little to her comforts; and a portion of her yearly wage should be set apart as a present to her mother. The affectionate mother, who had never before parted a single day with her daughter, saw her set out to her place of service (a gentleman's family among the lakes, where her father had been upon terms of intimacy) with an aching heart. She felt as if she was parting with her for the last time; and required all the resolution she was mistress of to tear herself from her dear Emma. "Go," she said, "and take a mother's fondest, warmest blessing; and if you should find yourself unable to accomplish your resolution, or feel any inconvenience, return and share what Heaven has left us, with an affectionate mother. It is not much, Heaven knows; but I could doubly enjoy it, were it less, if I had you to share it." Emma assured her mother, that if any unforeseen difficulty occurred, she would instantly repair to her natal home; and cheered her with a promise of constantly writing. This pacified, but did not console her mother. She knew too well the independent spirit of her daughter to hope for her return, except on some awful emergency. Time rolled on, and repeated letters, both from Emma and her mistress, assured the mother that all was well, and that Emma was healthy and happy. At length Emma sent the joyful intelligence that she would come over on Whitsun Sunday morning, and spend the week with her.