"Yes, mother, I know. But two heads are better than one, and I am really hopelessly puzzled to know what to do." Mary got up and went over to her mother and put her arm round her. "You see, dear, it is serious. There's no money at all--less than none; and I don't know where we are to turn. There's no outlook at all. I'm afraid that it's no use appealing to father--no use--and so it's simply left for us two to do what we can. It's frightening always doing it alone, and I thought you would help me." "Well, of course, Mary dear, I'll do what I can. No, I'm afraid that it would be no good appealing to your father. It's strange how very little sense he's ever had of money--of the value of it. I remember in the first week that we were married he bought some book or other and we had to go without quite a lot of things. I was angry then, but I've learnt since. It was our first quarrel." She sighed. It was always Mrs. Bethel's method of dealing with any present problem to flee into the happy land of reminiscence and to stay there until the matter had, comfortably or otherwise, settled itself. "But I shouldn't worry," she said, looking up at her daughter. "Things always turn up, and besides," she added, "you might marry, dear." "Marry!" Mary looked up at her mother sharply. Mrs. Bethel looked a little frightened. "Well, you will, you know, dear, probably--and perhaps--well, if he had money----" "Mother!" She sprang up from her chair and faced her with flaming cheeks. "Do you mean to say that they are talking about it?" "They? Who? It was only Mrs. Morrison the other day, at tea-time, said--that she thought----" "Mrs. Morrison? That hateful woman discussing me? Mother, how could you let her? What did she say?" "Why, only--I wish you wouldn't look so cross, dear. It was nothing really--only that Mr. Trojan obviously cared a good deal--and it would be so nice if----" "How dare she?" Mary cried again. "And you think it too, mother--that I would go on my knees to him to take us out of our trouble--that I would sweep his floors if he would help the family! Oh! It's hateful! Hateful!" She flung herself into a chair by the window and burst into tears. Mrs. Bethel stared at her in amazement. "Well, upon my word, my dear, one never knows how to take you! Why, it wasn't as if she'd said anything, only that it would be rather nice." She paused in utter bewilderment and seemed herself a little inclined to cry. At this moment the door opened--Mary sprang up. "Who is it?" she asked. "Mr. Henry Trojan, miss, would like to come up if it wouldn't----" "No. Tell him, Jane, that----" But he had followed the servant and appeared in the doorway smiling. "I knew you wouldn't mind my coming unconventionally like this," he said; "it's a terrible hour in the morning--but I felt sure that I would catch you." He had seen at once that there was something wrong, and he stopped confusedly in the doorway.