"And I sit here bemoaning my suffering," she cried passionately, "when such a blow is impending for my darling. Shame! shame! Am I ever to be so weak a woman, so mere a puppet in others' hands? Heaven give me strength to be forgetful of self, and strong in defence of my child!" She pressed back her hair from her brow, which became full of lines, and, resting her elbows upon her knees, her chin upon her hands, she sat there gazing as it were into the future, as she told herself that her own sufferings must be as nought, but that she must save Julia from such a fate. Sir Gordon? Bayle? No! no! Only as a last resource. Not even then; they must be left. They had known the truth from the first--she saw it now--and in pity for her had borne all she had said, and helped her. No! to ask their aid was to punish her husband. That could not be. She must act alone, weak woman as she was. She must be strong now, and she and Julia must leave this man at once. They must take some cottage or lodging in the town, and work for a living. That must be the first step. Then came the black cloud again, to shut out the hope. Hallam would not allow them to go; and if they could steal away they were absolutely penniless. She sat gazing before her, feeling as if old age had come suddenly to freeze her faculties and render her helpless; but, starting from her blank sense of misery, she forced herself to think. What should she do? Julia should not be a convict's wife; she felt that she would rather see her dead. Once more a ray of hope--a thin, bright ray of light piercing the cloud of darkness ahead. Lieutenant Eaton! He loved her child, and it had seemed as if Julia cared for him, but in her maiden innocency she had always shrunk from anything more than a friendly show of attachment. "But he is manly, and evidently devoted to her," said Mrs Hallam in a low voice. "She would soon learn to love him." She ran over in her own mind all that had passed since the acquaintance on ship-board began. Eaton's attentions, the pleasant hours Julia had seemed to spend in his company, the young officer's manner--everything pointed to its being on his part more than the gallant attention of one of his stamp. Then there was the life here since they had landed. His occasional calls; his evident hesitancy. It was all so plain. He loved Julia dearly, but he was kept back from proposing for her by her connections. "But he will ignore them for her sake," she cried at last joyously. "He must be learning day by day how true and good she is. He will forget everything, and she will be saved." Mrs Hallam started up with the ray of hope cutting its way more and more brightly through the dark cloud ahead; and then her senses seemed to reel, a terrible fit of giddiness came over her as she tottered, caught at a chair, and then fell heavily upon the floor. VOLUME FOUR, CHAPTER SEVEN. "TO THE BETTER WAY."