It seems to me that everything in life is relative. If one is born poor, one does not know what it is to be rich, and if one is rich, one does not understand the responsibilities of strawberry leaves, and strawberry leaves do not comprehend the difficulties of a throne. If things change, if one goes up in the world, one naturally assimilates ideas and ways by merely taking on a little more of what one already has; but if one slides back in life, one has to give up what is part and parcel of one’s very existence. I was not born in a back street or a country cottage or a suburban villa—in either of these I might have lived in simple comfort on my small income—but that would not have been _me_. * * * * * Bills came in on every side. Bills haunted me. Bills were nothing in my old life when they were paid up every quarter; but even a few hundreds meant sleepless nights of haunting fear to me now. I took up my pen feverishly. Nine years of married life were ended. All was changed. Still, during those first few months of shock, my father yet lived, and I knew I could rely on his help, so it was not until the late autumn of 1896 that I realised my position in all its cruelty. * * * * * Pause, readers, not to give me your sympathy, not to shed tears on what is past, but to think of the future; pause and think, and pave the paths for your daughters, wives, mothers, and sisters by settlements. Yes, _settlements_. It is a cruel thing to let a girl leave a home without a safeguard in proportion to the income of her family. It is a crueller thing to bring boys and girls into the world with insufficient provision for their education and maintenance. This little book of a woman’s work will have served a good end if one father, husband, son, or brother, sees what opportunities were lost by no adequate provision being made for its author, when this could so easily have been done. Settlements of some sort are as necessary as the marriage ring, a health certificate is as important as the marriage lines. I feel strongly that every child born should have some kind of provision made for its education and maintenance and to give it a start in life. Both boys and girls should be treated exactly alike. * * * * * The unexpected change in my position showed me how kind the world can be; how good and generous the bulk of humanity is. There are certainly exceptions, and those generally where they should not be. But one does not think of them: one turns to the geniality and little acts of thoughtfulness that day by day come from friends in the truest sense of the word, and I can only wish that mine could realise to what extent they have greased the wheels of these working years. Little kindnesses are like flowers by the roadside or sun-gleams on a rainy day. PART IV WIDOWHOOD AND WORK [Illustration: _From a photograph by Lombardi & Co._ WHEN FIRST A WIDOW]