.Alas
!
History
,
if
we
did
but
know
it
,
lies
around
us
,
as
mankind
lives
in
the
meanest
wretch
we
meet
,
and
perchance
despise
.
It
is
a
bitter
thing
to
behold
our
own
ruin
;
it
is
a
cruel
thing
to
look
on
powerless
and
despairing
;
and
both
now
fell
to
the
lot
of
Richard
Jones
.
He
had
ventured
all
,
and
lost
all
.
He
was
doomed
—
he
knew
it
;
every
one
knew
it
.
But
,
alas
!
the
cup
of
his
woes
was
not
full
.
Mary
had
always
been
delicate
.
One
chill
evening
she
took
cold
;
a
cough
settled
on
her
chest
;
sometimes
it
seemed
gone
,
then
suddenly
it
returned
again
.
"
She
felt
very
well
,
"
she
said
;
and
,
strange
to
say
,
her
father
thought
so
too
.
Rachel
was
the
first
to
see
that
something
was
wrong
.
"
Mary
,
"
she
said
to
her
,
one
morning
,
"
what
ails
you
?
Your
breath
seems
quite
short
.
"
"
La
!
bless
you
,
Miss
,
"
replied
Mary
,
in
her
patronizing
way
,
"
I
am
all
right
.
"
They
were
alone
;
Rachel
looked
at
the
young
girl
;
her
eyes
glittered
;
her
cheeks
were
red
with
a
hectic
flush
;
her
breathing
was
quick
and
oppressive
.
The
eyes
of
Rachel
filled
with
tears
;
she
thought
of
her
little
dead
sister
in
her
grave
.
"
Mary
,
"
she
said
,
"
do
not
work
any
more
to-day
—
go
home
.
"
Mary
looked
up
in
her
face
,
and
laughed
—
the
gay
laugh
of
an
unconscious
child
,
fearless
of
death
.
"
Why
,
Miss
,
you
are
crying
!
"
she
exclaimed
,
amazed
.
"
Am
I
?
"
said
Rachel
,
trying
to
smile
,
"
never
mind
,
Mary
;
go
home
—
or
,
rather
,
take
this
parcel
to
Mrs.
Jameson
,
number
three
,
Albert
Terrace
.
It
is
a
fine
day
—
the
walk
will
do
you
good
.
"
Mary
jumped
up
,
charmed
at
the
prospect
.
She
tied
her
bonnet-strings
before
the
looking-glass
,
and
hummed
the
tune
of
"
Meet
me
by
moonlight
alone
.
"
Mary
was
turned
sixteen
;
and
vague
ideas
of
romance
sometimes
fitted
through
her
young
brain
.
When
she
was
fairly
gone
,
Rachel
rose
,
laid
her
work
by
,
put
on
her
bonnet
and
shawl
,
and
quietly
slipped
round
to
the
Teapot
:
ostensibly
,
she
wanted
to
buy
some
tea
:
her
real
purpose
was
to
call
the
attention
of
Mr.
Jones
to
his
daughter
's
state
.
But
,
strange
to
say
,
Rachel
Gray
could
not
make
him
understand
her
;
his
mind
was
full
of
the
two
Teapots
;
of
the
villany
of
that
Saunders
;
of
the
world
's
ingratitude
;
of
his
misfortunes
and
his
wrongs
.
"
I
dare
say
Mary
feels
it
too
,
"
put
in
Rachel
.
"
Of
course
she
does
,
Miss
Gray
—
of
course
she
does
.
The
child
has
feelings
.
And
then
you
know
,
Miss
Gray
,
if
that
fellow
had
n't
a
come
there
,
why
,
you
know
,
we
were
getting
on
as
well
as
could
be
.
"
"
I
notice
that
she
coughs
,
"
said
Rachel
"
Why
,
yes
,
poor
child
;
she
ca
n't
get
rid
of
that
cough
—
she
's
growing
,
you
see
.
And
then
,
you
see
,
that
Saunders
—
"
"
And
her
breathing
is
so
short
,
"
interrupted
Rachel
.
"
Sure
to
be
,
on
account
of
the
cough
.
And
,
as
I
was
saying
,
that
Saunders
—
"
"
But
,
Mr.
Jones
,
do
n't
you
think
you
had
better
see
a
doctor
?
"
again
interrupted
Rachel
.
"
See
a
doctor
!
"
exclaimed
Jones
,
staring
at
her
.
"
You
do
n't
mean
to
say
my
child
is
ill
,
Miss
Gray
?
"
"
I
do
n't
think
she
is
quite
well
,
Mr.
Jones
,
"
replied
Rachel
,
trembling
as
she
said
so
.
He
sank
down
on
his
seat
behind
the
counter
,
pale
as
death
.
The
obstinate
cough
,
the
short
breathing
,
the
hectic
flush
,
all
rushed
back
to
his
memory
;
unseen
,
unheeded
,
till
then
,
they
now
told
him
one
fearful
story
.
With
trembling
hand
he
wiped
away
the
drops
of
cold
perspiration
from
his
forehead
.
"
The
doctor
must
see
her
directly
,
"
he
said
,
"
directly
.
I
'll
go
and
look
for
him
,
and
you
'll
send
her
round
.
It
's
nothing
—
nothing
at
all
,
I
am
sure
;
she
's
growing
,
you
see
.
But
still
,
it
must
be
attended
to
,
you
know
—
it
must
be
attended
to
.
"
A
light
laugh
at
the
door
interrupted
him
.
He
turned
round
,
and
saw
Mary
looking
in
at
him
and
Rachel
Gray
,
through
the
glass
windows
;
with
another
laugh
,
she
vanished
.
Rachel
went
to
the
door
,
and
called
her
back
.
"
Mary
,
Mary
,
your
father
wants
you
.
"
The
young
girl
came
in
;
and
,
for
the
first
time
,
her
father
seemed
to
see
the
bright
red
spot
that
burned
on
her
cheek
,
the
unnatural
brilliancy
of
her
blue
eyes
,
the
painful
shortness
of
her
breath
.
A
mist
seemed
to
fall
from
his
eyes
,
and
the
dread
truth
to
stand
revealed
before
him
;
but
he
did
not
speak
,
nor
did
Rachel
;
Mary
looked
at
them
both
,
wondering
.
"
Well
,
what
ails
you
two
,
that
you
stare
at
me
so
,
"
she
said
,
pertly
.
"
I
am
so
hot
,
"
she
added
,
after
a
while
.
"
I
think
I
shall
stay
at
home
,
as
you
said
.
Miss
Gray
.
"
She
went
into
the
back
parlour
,
and
sat
down
on
the
first
chair
she
found
at
hand
.
Rachel
Gray
and
her
father
followed
her
in
.
The
poor
child
,
who
,
because
she
had
felt
no
actual
pain
,
had
thought
that
she
could
not
be
ill
,
now
,
for
the
first
time
,
felt
that
she
was
so
.
"
What
ails
you
,
dear
?
"
softly
asked
Rachel
,
bending
over
her
,
as
she
saw
her
gradually
turning
pale
.
"
La
!
bless
you
.
Miss
Gray
,
I
am
quite
well
—
only
I
feel
so
faint
like
.
"
And
even
as
she
spoke
,
her
head
sank
on
the
bosom
of
Rachel
—
she
had
fainted
.
When
Mary
recovered
to
consciousness
,
she
was
lying
on
her
bed
,
up
stairs
.
Rachel
stood
by
her
pillow
.
At
the
foot
of
her
bed
,
Mary
caught
sight
of
her
father
's
face
,
ghastly
pale
.
Between
the
two
,
she
saw
a
strange
gentleman
,
a
doctor
,
who
felt
her
pulse
,
put
a
few
questions
to
her
,
wrote
a
prescription
,
and
soon
left
.
"
I
must
go
now
,
"
said
Rachel
,
"
but
I
shall
come
back
this
evening
,
and
bring
my
work
.
"
Jones
did
not
heed
her
;
he
looked
stupified
and
like
one
bereft
of
sense
,
but
Mary
laughed
and
replied
,
"
Oh
!
do
Miss
Gray
,
come
and
take
tea
with
us
.
"
Rachel
promised
that
she
would
try
,
kissed
her
and
left
.
With
great
difficulty
she
obtained
from
Mrs.
Brown
the
permission
to
return
.
They
on
whom
the
light
of
this
world
shone
not
,
were
rarely
in
the
favour
of
Mrs.
Brown
.
And
only
on
condition
of
being
home
early
did
she
allow
Rachel
to
depart
.
Before
leaving
,
she
went
up
to
her
other
's
chair
,
he
was
not
now
quite
so
helpless
as
at
first
,
and
did
not
require
her
constant
presence
or
assistance
;
though
he
still
did
not
know
her
.
"
I
shall
try
and
not
be
too
long
away
,
"
said
Rachel
in
a
low
voice
.
"
Never
mind
,
"
he
muttered
,
shaking
his
head
,
"
never
mind
.
"
"
There
's
a
precious
old
fool
for
you
!
"
said
Mrs.
Brown
laughing
coarsely
.
A
flush
of
pain
crossed
Rachel
's
cheek
,
but
to
have
replied
,
would
have
been
to
draw
down
a
storm
on
her
head
;
she
silently
left
the
house
.
She
found
Mary
feverish
,
restless
,
and
full
of
projects
.
She
would
get
up
early
the
next
day
,
and
make
up
for
lost
time
.
She
remembered
all
the
work
she
had
to
do
,
and
which
she
had
unaccountably
neglected
.
Her
father
's
shirts
to
mend
,
her
own
wardrobe
to
see
to
;
the
next
room
to
clean
up
,
for
a
second
lodger
had
never
been
found
;
in
short
,
to
hear
her
,
it
seemed
as
if
her
life
had
only
begun
,
and
that
this
was
the
day
of
its
opening
.
In
vain
Rachel
tried
to
check
her
soothingly
;
Mary
talked
on
and
was
so
animated
and
so
merry
,
that
her
father
,
who
came
up
every
five
minutes
to
see
how
she
was
,
could
not
believe
her
to
be
so
very
ill
as
Miss
Gray
thought
,
or
the
Doctor
had
hinted
.
Indeed
,
when
at
nine
Rachel
left
,
and
he
let
her
down
stairs
,
he
seemed
quite
relieved
.
"
The
child
's
only
growing
,
"
he
said
to
Rachel
,
"
only
growing
;
a
little
rest
and
a
little
medicine
,
and
she
'll
be
all
right
again
.
"
But
scarcely
was
Rachel
out
of
the
door
,
when
she
burst
into
tears
.
"
My
poor
little
Mary
,
"
she
thought
,
"
my
poor
little
Mary
!
"
CHAPTER
XVIII
.
It
was
rather
late
when
Rachel
knocked
timidly
at
the
door
,
Mrs.
Brown
opened
to
her
,
and
there
was
a
storm
on
her
brow
.
"
Well
,
ma'am
,
"
she
began
;
"
well
,
ma'am
!
"
"
Oh
!
pray
do
not
—
do
not
!
"
imploringly
exclaimed
Rachel
,
clasping
her
hands
.
For
her
excessive
patience
had
of
late
rendered
Mrs.
Brown
's
violent
temper
wholly
ungovernable
.
Irritated
by
the
very
meekness
which
met
her
wrath
,
she
had
,
with
the
instinct
of
aggression
,
found
the
only
vulnerable
point
of
Rachel
—
her
father
.
This
was
,
indeed
,
the
heel
of
Achilles
.
All
the
shafts
of
the
enemy
's
railing
that
fell
harmless
on
the
childish
old
man
,
rebounded
on
his
daughter
with
double
force
:
deep
and
keen
they
sank
in
her
hearty
and
every
one
inflicted
its
wound
.
And
thus
it
was
that
Rachel
had
learned
to
look
with
terror
to
Mrs.
Brown
's
wrath
—
that
she
now
shrank
from
it
with
fear
and
trembling
,
and
implored
for
mercy
.
But
there
is
no
arguing
with
ill-temper
.
Mrs.
Brown
would
neither
give
mercy
,
nor
hear
reason
.
Had
she
not
lent
twenty
pound
three
and
six
to
Rachel
?
Was
not
Rachel
beholden
to
her
for
food
,
shelter
,
chemist
's
bill
,
and
physician
's
fees
?
and
should
not
,
therefore
,
her
will
be
Rachel
's
law
,
and
her
pleasure
be
Rachel
's
pleasure
?
Poor
Rachel
,
her
patience
was
great
,
but
now
she
felt
as
if
it
must
fail
;
as
if
she
could
not
,
even
for
the
sake
of
a
roof
's
shelter
,
endure
more
from
one
to
whom
no
tie
of
love
or
regard
bound
her
—
nothing
but
the
burdening
sense
of
an
obligation
which
she
had
not
sought
,
and
for
which
she
had
already
paid
so
dearly
.
She
clasped
her
thin
hands
—
she
looked
with
her
mild
brown
eyes
in
the
face
of
her
tormentor
,
and
her
lips
quivered
with
the
intensity
of
the
feelings
that
moved
her
to
reply
,
and
repel
insult
and
contumely
,
and
with
the
strength
of
will
that
kept
her
silent
.
At
length
,
Mrs.
Brown
grew
tired
,
for
her
ill-temper
had
this
quality
—
it
was
vehement
,
not
slow
and
irritating
,
the
infliction
ceased
—
Rachel
remained
alone
.
Mrs.
Brown
had
taken
possession
of
the
room
that
had
once
been
Rachel
's
.
Thomas
Gray
slept
in
the
back
parlour
;
and
in
order
to
remain
within
reach
of
aid
,
Rachel
slept
on
the
floor
of
the
front
room
.
In
this
room
it
was
that
Mrs.
Brown
had
left
her
.
Softly
Rachel
went
and
opened
the
door
of
her
father
's
room
;
it
was
dark
and
quiet
;
but
in
its
stillness
,
she
heard
his
regular
breathing
—
he
slept
,
and
little
,
did
he
know
how
much
that
calm
sleep
of
his
cost
his
daughter
.
She
closed
the
door
,
and
sat
down
in
her
own
room
;
but
she
thought
not
of
sleep
;
the
tempter
was
with
her
in
that
hour
.
Her
heart
was
full
of
bitterness
—
full
even
to
overflowing
.
On
a
dark
and
dreary
sea
,
her
lot
seemed
cast
;
she
saw
not
the
guiding
star
of
faith
over
her
head
.
She
saw
not
before
her
the
haven
of
blessed
peace
.
The
words
"
Thy
will
be
done
,
"
fell
from
her
lips
;
they
were
not
in
her
heart
.
Nothing
was
there
,
nothing
but
wounded
pride
,
resentment
,
and
the
sense
of
unmerited
wrong
.
In
vain
,
thinking
of
her
tyrant
,
Rachel
said
to
herself
,
"
I
forgive
that
woman
—
I
forgive
her
freely
.
"
She
felt
that
she
did
not
;
that
anger
against
this
pitiless
tormentor
of
her
life
smouldered
in
her
heart
like
the
red
coal
living
beneath
pale
ashes
;
and
Rachel
was
startled
,
and
justly
,
to
feel
that
so
strange
and
unusual
an
emotion
,
anger
against
another
,
had
found
place
in
her
bosom
,
and
that
though
she
bade
it
go
,
it
stayed
,
and
would
not
depart
.
To
be
gentle
is
not
to
be
passionless
.
The
spirit
of
Rachel
had
been
early
subdued
,
too
much
subdued
for
her
happiness
;
but
it
was
too
noble
ever
to
have
been
quenched
.
It
still
burned
within
her
,
a
flame
pure
and
free
,
though
invisible
.
But
now
,
alas
!
the
vapours
of
earthly
passion
dimmed
its
brightness
:
and
it
was
darkened
with
human
wrath
.
Through
such
moments
of
temptation
and
trial
all
have
passed
;
and
then
it
is
,
indeed
,
when
we
are
not
blinded
by
pride
,
that
we
feel
our
miserable
weakness
,
a
weakness
for
which
there
is
but
one
remedy
,
but
then
it
is
a
divine
one
—
the
strength
of
God
.
That
strength
Rachel
now
invoked
.
De
Profundis
,
from
the
depths
of
her
sorrow
she
cried
out
to
the
Lord
,
not
that
her
burden
might
grow
less
,
but
that
her
strength
to
bear
it
,
to
endure
and
forgive
,
might
increase
eyen
with
it
And
strength
was
granted
unto
her
.
It
came
,
not
at
once
,
not
like
the
living
waters
that
flowed
from
the
arid
rock
,
when
the
prophet
spoke
,
but
slowly
,
like
the
heavenly
manna
that
fell
softly
in
the
silence
of
the
night
,
and
was
gathered
ere
the
sun
rose
above
the
desert
.
Rachel
felt
—
oh
,
pure
and
blessed
feeling
!
—
that
her
heart
was
free
from
bitterness
and
gall
;
that
she
could
forgive
the
offender
,
to
seventy
times
seven
;
that
she
could
pray
for
her
—
not
with
the
lip-prayer
of
the
self-righteous
Pharisee
,
but
with
the
heartfelt
orisons
of
the
poor
,
sinning
,
and
penitent
publican
;
and
again
and
again
,
and
until
the
tears
flowed
down
her
cheek
,
she
blessed
God
,
the
sole
Giver
of
so
mighty
and
superhuman
a
grace
.
And
well
it
was
for
Rachel
Gray
,
that
she
forgave
her
enemy
that
night
.
Well
it
was
,
indeed
,
that
the
next
sun
beheld
not
her
wrath
.
Before
that
sun
rose
,
the
poor
,
erring
woman
had
given
in
her
account
of
every
deed
,
and
every
word
uttered
in
the
heat
of
anger
:
—
Mrs
.
Brown
had
gone
to
her
room
strong
and
well
.
She
was
found
dead
and
cold
in
her
bed
the
next
morning
.
A
coroner
's
inquest
was
held
,
and
a
verdict
of
"
sudden
death
"
recorded
.
And
a
will
,
too
,
was
found
in
a
tea-caddy
,
by
which
Mrs.
Brown
formally
bequeathed
all
her
property
to
Rachel
Gray
,
"
as
a
proof
,
"
said
the
will
,
"
of
her
admiration
and
respect
.
"
On
hearing
the
words
,
Rachel
burst
into
tears
.
"
Thank
God
!
That
I
forgave
her
!
"
she
exclaimed
,
"
thank
God
!
"
Well
indeed
might
she
thank
the
Divine
bestower
of
all
forgiveness
.
The
legacy
was
not
after
all
a
large
one
.
Mrs.
Brown
's
annuity
died
with
her
;
she
left
little
more
money
than
buried
her
decently
;
the
ground
lease
of
the
house
in
which
she
had
originally
resided
was
almost
out
,
and
the
bequest
was
in
reality
limited
to
the
present
abode
of
Rachel
;
but
invaluable
to
her
indeed
,
was
the
shelter
of
that
humble
home
,
now
her
own
for
ever
.
And
when
all
was
over
;
when
the
grave
had
closed
on
one
,
who
not
being
at
peace
herself
,
could
not
give
peace
to
others
,
when
Rachel
and
her
father
remained
alone
in
the
little
house
,
now
hushed
and
silenced
from
all
rude
and
jarring
sounds
,
safe
from
all
tyrannical
interference
,
Rachel
felt
,
with
secret
thankfulness
,
that
if
her
lot
was
not
happy
,
according
to
human
weakness
,
it
was
blest
with
peace
and
quiet
,
and
all
the
good
that
from
them
spring
.
If
a
cloud
still
lingered
over
it
,
it
was
only
because
,
looking
at
her
father
,
she
remembered
the
unfulfilled
desire
of
her
heart
;
and
if
on
days
otherwise
now
marked
with
peace
,
there
sometimes
fell
the
darkness
of
a
passing
shadow
,
it
was
only
when
she
saw
and
felt
too
keenly
the
sorrows
of
others
.
CHAPTER
XIX
.
Richard
Jones
still
hoped
:
"
Mary
was
so
young
!
"
He
would
hope
.
But
it
was
not
to
be
;
he
had
but
tasted
the
cup
of
his
sorrows
;
to
the
dregs
was
he
to
drink
it
;
the
earthly
idol
on
which
he
had
set
his
heart
was
to
be
snatched
from
him
;
he
was
to
waken
one
day
to
the
bitter
knowledge
:
"
there
is
no
hope
!
"
How
he
felt
we
know
not
,
and
cannot
tell
:
none
have
a
right
to
describe
that
grief
save
they
who
have
passed
through
it
;
we
dare
not
unveil
the
father
's
heart
:
we
deal
but
with
the
external
aspect
of
things
,
and
sad
and
bitter
enough
it
was
.
In
a
silent
shop
,
where
the
sugar
seemed
to
shrink
away
in
the
casks
,
where
the
tea-chests
looked
hollow
,
where
dust
gathered
on
the
counter
,
on
the
shelves
,
in
the
corners
,
everywhere
;
where
all
looked
blasted
and
withered
by
the
deadly
upas
tree
opposite
,
you
might
have
seen
a
haggard
man
who
stood
there
day
after
day
,
waiting
for
customers
that
came
not
,
and
who
from
behind
his
shop
windows
drearily
watched
the
opposite
shop
,
always
full
;
thriving
,
fattening
on
his
ruin
;
or
who
,
sadder
sight
to
his
eyes
and
heart
,
looked
at
the
little
back
parlour
,
where
on
her
sick
bed
his
dying
daughter
lay
.
Mary
,
as
her
illness
drew
towards
its
close
,
became
fanciful
,
she
insisted
on
having
her
bed
brought
down
to
the
back
parlour
,
and
would
leave
her
door
open
,
"
in
order
to
mind
the
shop
,
"
she
said
.
If
anything
could
hasten
her
father
's
ruin
,
this
did
it
:
the
few
customers
whom
he
had
left
,
gradually
dropped
off
,
scared
away
by
that
sick
girl
,
looking
at
them
with
her
eager
,
glittering
eyes
.
He
sat
by
her
one
evening
in
a
sad
and
very
bitter
mood
.
She
was
ill
,
very
ill
,
and
for
three
days
not
a
soul
had
crossed
the
threshold
of
his
shop
.
His
love
and
his
ambition
were
passing
away
together
from
his
life
.
"
Father
,
"
querulously
said
Mary
,
"
why
did
you
shut
the
shop
so
early
?
"
For
since
her
illness
the
young
girl
's
mind
was
always
running
on
the
shop
.
"
Where
's
the
use
of
leaving
it
open
?
"
huskily
answered
Jones
,
"
unless
it
's
to
see
them
all
going
to
the
two
Teapots
opposite
.
"
"
Well
,
but
I
wish
you
had
not
,
"
she
resumed
,
"
it
looks
so
dull
and
so
dark
.
"
It
is
very
likely
that
to
please
her
,
Richard
Jones
would
have
gone
and
taken
the
shutters
down
;
but
for
a
knock
at
the
private
door
.
"
There
's
Miss
Gray
,
"
said
Mary
,
her
face
lighting
.
Richard
Jones
went
and
opened
it
;
it
was
Rachel
Gray
.
The
light
of
the
candle
which
he
held
fell
full
on
his
face
;
Rachel
was
struck
with
its
haggard
expression
.
"
You
do
not
look
well
,
Mr.
Jones
,
"
she
said
.
"
Do
n't
I
,
Miss
Gray
,
"
he
replied
,
with
a
dreary
smile
,
"
well
,
that
's
a
wonder
!
Look
here
!
"
he
added
,
leading
her
into
the
shop
where
his
tallow
candle
shed
but
a
dim
,
dull
light
,
"
look
here
,
"
he
continued
,
raising
it
high
,
and
turning
it
round
so
that
it
cast
its
faint
gleam
over
the
whole
place
,
"
look
here
;
there
's
a
shop
for
you
,
Miss
Gray
.
How
long
ago
is
it
since
you
,
and
your
mother
,
and
Mary
and
I
we
settled
that
shop
?
Look
at
it
now
,
I
say
—
look
at
it
now
.
Look
here
!
"
and
he
thrust
the
light
down
a
cask
,
"
empty
!
Look
there
!
"
and
he
raised
the
lid
of
a
tea-chest
,
"
empty
!
Do
you
wish
to
try
the
drawers
?
Oh
!
they
are
all
labelled
,
but
what
's
in
'
em
.
Miss
Gray
?
nothing
!
It
's
well
the
customers
have
left
off
coming
;
for
I
could
n't
serve
them
;
could
n't
accommodate
them
,
I
am
sorry
to
say
,
"
and
he
laughed
very
bitterly
.
"
I
was
happy
when
I
came
here
,
"
he
resumed
,
"
I
had
hope
;
I
thought
there
was
an
opening
;
I
thought
there
was
room
for
me
.
I
set
up
this
shop
;
I
did
it
all
up
myself
,
as
you
know
—
every
inch
of
it
;
I
painted
it
;
I
put
the
fixtures
in
;
I
drove
every
nail
in
with
my
own
hand
,
and
what
's
been
the
upshot
of
it
all
,
Miss
Gray
?
"
Rachel
raised
her
soft
brown
eyes
to
his
:
"
It
is
the
will
of
God
,
"
she
said
,
"
and
God
knows
best
,
for
He
is
good
.
"
Richard
Jones
looked
at
her
and
smiled
almost
sternly
,
for
suffering
gives
dignity
to
the
meanest
,
and
no
man
,
when
he
feels
deeply
,
is
the
same
man
as
when
his
feelings
are
unstirred
.
"
Miss
Gray
,
"
he
said
,
"
I
have
worked
from
my
youth
—
slaved
some
would
say
;
I
hoped
to
make
out
something
for
myself
and
my
child
,
and
it
was
more
of
her
than
of
myself
I
thought
I
wronged
none
;
I
did
my
best
;
a
rich
man
steps
in
,
and
I
am
bewared
—
and
you
tell
me
God
is
good
—
mind
,
I
do
n't
say
he
aint
—
but
is
he
good
to
me
?
"
Rachel
Gray
shook
with
nervous
emotion
from
head
to
foot
She
was
pained
—
she
was
distressed
at
the
question
.
Still
more
distressed
because
her
mind
was
so
bewildered
,
because
her
ideas
were
in
such
strange
tumult
,
that
with
the
most
ardent
wish
to
speak
,
she
could
not
.
As
when
in
a
dream
we
struggle
to
move
and
cannot
,
our
will
being
fettered
by
the
slumber
of
the
body
,
so
Rachel
felt
then
,
so
alas
!
for
her
torment
she
felt
almost
always
;
conscious
of
truths
sublime
,
beautiful
and
consoling
,
but
unable
to
express
them
in
speech
.
"
God
is
good
,
"
she
said
again
,
clinging
to
that
truth
as
to
her
anchor
of
safety
.
Again
Richard
Jones
smiled
.
"
And
my
child
,
Miss
Gray
,
"
he
said
,
lowering
his
voice
so
that
his
words
could
not
reach
the
next
room
,
"
going
by
inches
before
my
very
eyes
;
yet
I
must
look
on
and
not
go
mad
.
I
must
be
beggared
,
and
I
must
bear
it
;
I
must
become
childless
,
and
I
must
bear
it
.
And
the
wicked
thrive
,
and
the
wicked
's
children
outlive
them
,
for
God
is
good
to
them
,
Miss
Gray
.
"
The
eyes
of
Rachel
filled
with
tears
;
her
brow
became
clouded
.
"
Ah
!
Mr.
Jones
,
"
she
said
,
"
do
not
complain
;
you
have
loved
your
child
.
"
"
What
are
you
keeping
Miss
Gray
there
for
?
"
pettishly
said
the
voice
of
Mary
,
"
I
want
her
.
"
"
And
here
I
am
,
dear
,
"
said
Rachel
,
going
in
to
her
,
"
I
am
come
to
sit
a
while
with
you
;
for
I
am
sure
your
poor
father
wants
rest
,
does
he
not
?
"
"
I
do
n't
want
any
one
to
sit
with
me
,
"
impatiently
replied
Mary
,
"
I
am
not
so
ill
as
all
that
.
"
"
But
do
you
sleep
at
night
?
"
"
No
,
I
ca
n't
—
I
am
so
feverish
.
"
"
Well
,
then
,
we
sit
up
with
you
to
keep
you
company
,
"
said
her
father
.
This
explanation
apparently
satisfied
Mary
,
who
began
to
talk
of
other
things
.
She
knew
not
she
was
dying
;
whence
should
the
knowledge
have
come
to
a
mere
child
like
her
.
None
had
told
her
the
truth
.
And
she
was
passing
away
into
eternity
,
unconscious
—
her
heart
,
her
thoughts
,
her
soul
full
of
the
shadows
of
life
.
Rachel
saw
and
knew
it
,
and
it
grieved
her
.
She
remembered
her
little
sister
's
happy
and
smiling
death-bed
,
and
from
her
heart
she
prayed
that
a
similar
blessing
might
crown
the
last
hours
of
little
Mary
;
that
she
might
go
to
her
God
like
a
child
to
her
father
.
And
when
Richard
Jones
,
after
sitting
up
with
them
until
twelve
,
went
upstairs
to
rest
awhile
,
and
Rachel
heard
Mary
talk
of
her
recovery
,
and
of
projects
and
hopes
,
vain
to
her
as
a
dream
,
she
could
not
help
feeling
that
it
was
her
duty
to
speak
.
They
were
alone
,
"
yes
,
now
,
"
thought
Rachel
,
"
now
is
the
time
to
speak
.
"
Oh
!
hard
and
bitter
task
:
to
tell
the
young
of
death
;
the
hoping
that
they
must
not
hope
;
to
tell
those
who
would
so
fondly
delay
and
linger
in
this
valley
,
that
they
must
depart
for
the
land
that
is
so
near
,
and
that
seems
so
far
.
Rachel
knew
not
how
to
begin
.
Mary
opened
the
subject
.
"
I
shall
be
glad
when
I
am
well
again
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
am
tired
of
this
little
room
;
it
seems
so
dull
when
I
see
the
sun
shine
in
the
street
,
do
n't
it
,
Miss
Gray
?
"
"
I
dare
say
it
does
:
you
remind
me
of
a
little
story
I
once
read
;
shall
I
tell
it
to
you
?
"
"
Oh
!
yes
you
may
,
"
carelessly
replied
Mary
,
yawning
slightly
;
she
thought
Miss
Gray
prosy
at
times
.
"
It
is
not
a
long
story
,
"
said
Rachel
timidly
,
"
and
here
it
is
;
a
king
was
once
hunting
alone
in
a
wood
,
when
he
heard
a
very
beautiful
voice
singing
very
sweetly
;
he
went
on
and
saw
a
poor
leper
.
"
"
What
's
a
leper
?
"
interrupted
Mary
.
"
Do
n't
you
remember
the
lepers
in
the
Gospel
,
who
were
made
clean
by
our
Saviour
?
they
were
poor
things
,
who
had
a
bad
and
loathsome
complaint
,
and
this
man
,
whom
the
king
heard
singing
,
was
one
;
and
the
king
could
not
help
saying
to
him
,
'
how
can
you
sing
when
you
seem
in
so
wretched
a
condition
?
'
But
the
leper
replied
,
'
it
is
because
I
am
in
this
state
that
I
sing
,
for
as
my
body
decays
,
I
know
that
the
hour
of
my
deliverance
draws
nigh
,
that
I
shall
leave
this
miserable
world
,
and
go
to
my
Lord
and
my
God
.
'
"
Mary
looked
at
Rachel
surprised
at
the
impressive
and
earnest
tone
with
which
she
spoke
.
"
Well
but
,
Miss
Gray
,
"
she
said
,
at
length
,
"
what
is
there
like
me
in
this
story
;
I
am
not
a
leper
,
am
I
?
"
"
We
are
all
lepers
,
"
gently
said
Rachel
,
"
for
we
are
all
sinners
,
and
sin
is
to
the
soul
what
leprosy
is
to
the
body
;
it
defiles
it
,
and
we
all
should
be
glad
to
die
;
for
Christ
has
conquered
death
,
and
with
death
sin
ends
,
and
our
true
life
,
the
life
in
God
begins
.
"
Mary
raised
herself
on
one
elbow
.
She
looked
at
Rachel
fixedly
,
earnestly
;
"
Miss
Gray
,
"
she
said
;
"
what
do
you
mean
?
"
Rachel
did
not
reply
—
she
could
not
.
"
Why
do
you
tell
me
all
these
things
?
"
continued
Mary
.
And
still
Rachel
could
not
speak
.
"
Miss
Gray
,
"
said
Mary
,
"
am
I
going
to
die
?
"
She
looked
wistfully
in
Rachel
's
face
,
and
the
beseeching
tone
of
her
young
childish
voice
seemed
to
pierce
Rachel
's
heart
;
but
she
had
began
;
could
not
,
she
dared
not
go
back
.
She
rose
,
she
clasped
her
hands
,
she
trembled
from
head
to
foot
,
tears
streamed
down
her
cheek
;
her
voice
faltered
so
that
she
could
scarcely
speak
,
but
she
mastered
it
,
clear
and
distinct
the
words
came
out
.
"
Mary
,
we
must
all
obey
the
will
of
God
;
we
came
into
this
world
at
His
will
,
at
His
will
we
must
leave
it
.
"
"
And
must
I
leave
it
,
Miss
Gray
?
"
asked
Mary
,
persisting
in
her
questioning
like
a
child
.
Rachel
stooped
over
her
;
the
fast
tears
poured
from
her
face
on
Mary
's
pale
brow
,
"
yes
,
my
darling
,
"
she
said
softly
,
"
yes
,
you
must
leave
this
miserable
earth
of
trouble
and
sorrow
,
and
go
to
God
your
friend
and
your
father
.
"
The
weakest
,
the
frailest
creatures
often
rise
to
heroic
courage
.
This
fretful
,
pettish
child
heard
her
sentence
with
some
wonder
,
but
apparently
without
sorrow
.
"
Do
n't
cry
,
Miss
Gray
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
do
n't
cry
;
but
do
you
know
,
it
seems
so
odd
that
I
should
die
,
does
n't
it
now
?
"
Rachel
did
not
reply
,
nor
did
she
attempt
it
;
her
very
heart
was
wrung
.
Mary
guessed
,
or
saw
it
.
"
I
wish
you
would
not
fret
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
wish
you
would
not
.
Miss
Gray
.
I
do
n't
,
you
see
.
"
"
Ay
,
"
thought
Rachel
,
"
you
do
not
,
my
poor
child
,
for
what
do
you
know
of
death
?
"
And
a
little
while
after
this
,
Mary
,
who
felt
heavy
,
fell
asleep
with
her
hand
in
that
of
Rachel
Gray
.
CHAPTER
XX
.
Three
days
had
passed
.
The
morning
was
gray
and
dull
.
He
had
sat
up
all
night
by
Mary
;
for
Rachel
,
exhausted
with
fatigue
,
had
been
unable
to
come
.
Poor
little
Mary
,
her
hour
was
nigh
;
she
knew
it
,
and
her
young
heart
grieved
for
her
father
,
so
soon
to
be
childless
.
She
thought
of
herself
too
;
she
looked
over
the
whole
of
her
young
life
,
and
she
saw
its
transgressions
and
its
sins
with
a
sorrow
free
from
faithless
dismay
;
for
Rachel
had
said
to
her
:
"
Shall
we
dare
to
limit
for
ourselves
,
or
for
others
,
the
unfathomed
mercy
of
God
?
"
"
Father
,
"
she
suddenly
said
,
"
I
want
to
speak
to
you
.
"
"
What
is
it
,
my
darling
?
"
he
asked
,
bending
over
her
fondly
.
She
looked
up
in
his
face
,
her
cheeks
flushed
with
a
deeper
hectic
,
her
glassy
eyes
lit
with
a
brighter
light
.
"
Father
,
"
she
said
,
"
I
have
been
a
naughty
child
,
have
I
not
?
"
"
No
—
no
,
my
little
pet
,
never
,
indeed
,
never
.
"
"
I
know
I
have
been
naughty
,
father
;
I
'
have
been
,
'
oh
!
so
cross
at
times
;
but
,
father
,
I
could
not
help
it
—
at
least
,
it
seemed
as
if
I
could
not
—
my
back
ached
so
,
and
indeed
,
"
she
added
,
clasping
her
hands
,
"
I
am
very
sorry
,
father
,
very
sorry
.
"
He
stooped
still
nearer
to
her
;
he
laid
his
cheek
on
her
pillow
;
he
kissed
her
hot
brow
,
little
Mary
half
smiled
.
"
You
forgive
me
,
do
n't
you
?
"
she
murmured
faintly
.
"
Forgive
you
!
my
pet
—
my
darling
.
"
"
Yes
,
pray
do
,
"
she
said
.
She
could
scarcely
speak
now
;
there
was
a
film
on
her
eyes
,
too
.
He
saw
it
gathering
fast
,
very
fast
.
Suddenly
she
seemed
to
revive
like
a
dying
flame
.
Again
she
addressed
him
.
"
Father
!
"
she
said
,
"
why
do
n't
you
take
down
the
shutters
?
"
And
with
singular
earnestness
she
fixed
her
eyes
on
his
.
Take
down
the
shutters
?
The
question
seemed
a
stab
sent
through
his
very
heart
.
Yet
he
mastered
himself
,
and
replied
:
"
'
Tis
early
yet
;
'
tis
very
early
,
my
darling
.
"
"
No
'
taint
,
"
she
said
,
in
her
old
pettish
way
,
and
then
she
murmured
in
a
low
and
humbled
tone
:
"
Ah
!
I
forget
—
I
forget
.
I
did
not
mean
to
be
cross
again
.
Indeed
I
did
not
,
father
,
so
pray
forgive
me
.
"
"
Do
n't
think
of
it
,
my
pet
.
Do
you
wish
for
anything
?
"
"
Nothing
,
father
,
but
that
you
would
take
down
the
shutters
.
"
He
tried
to
speak
—
he
could
not
;
only
a
few
broken
sounds
gasped
on
his
lips
for
utterance
.
"
Because
you
see
,
"
she
continued
with
strange
earnestness
,
"
the
customers
will
all
be
coming
and
wondering
if
they
see
the
shop
shut
;
and
they
will
think
me
worse
,
and
so
—
and
so
—
"
She
could
not
finish
the
sentence
,
but
she
tried
to
do
so
.
"
And
so
you
see
,
father
.
"
Again
the
words
died
away
.
Her
father
raised
his
head
;
he
looked
at
her
;
he
saw
her
growing
very
white
.
Again
he
bent
,
and
softly
whispered
:
"
My
darling
,
did
you
say
your
prayers
this
morning
?
"
An
expression
of
surprise
stole
over
the
child
's
wan
face
.
"
I
had
forgotten
,
"
she
replied
,
faintly
,
"
I
shall
say
them
now
.
"
She
folded
her
thin
hands
,
her
lips
moved
.
"
Our
father
who
art
in
heaven
,
"
she
said
,
and
she
began
a
prayer
that
was
never
finished
upon
earth
.
The
dread
moment
had
come
.
The
angel
of
death
stood
in
that
hushed
room
;
swiftly
and
gently
he
fulfilled
his
errand
,
then
departed
,
leaving
all
in
silence
,
breathless
and
deep
.
He
knew
it
was
all
over
.
He
rose
;
he
closed
the
eyes
,
composed
the
slender
limbs
,
then
he
sat
down
by
his
dead
child
,
a
desolate
man
—
a
heart-broken
father
.
How
long
he
sat
thus
he
knew
not
;
a
knock
at
the
door
at
length
roused
him
.
Mechanically
he
rose
and
went
and
opened
.
He
saw
a
man
who
at
once
stepped
in
and
closed
the
door
,
and
before
the
man
spoke
,
Jones
knew
his
errand
.
"
It
's
all
right
,
"
he
said
,
"
I
know
,
the
landlord
could
scarcely
help
it
;
come
in
.
"
The
bailiff
was
a
bluff
,
hearty-looking
man
;
he
gave
Jones
a
sound
slap
on
the
shoulder
.
"
You
are
a
trump
!
that
's
what
you
are
,
"
he
said
,
with
a
big
oath
.
Jones
did
not
answer
,
but
showed
his
guest
into
the
back
parlour
.
"
Halloo
!
what
's
that
?
"
cried
the
bailiff
,
attempting
to
raise
the
bed-curtain
.
"
Do
n't
,
"
said
Jones
,
in
a
husky
voice
.
Then
the
man
saw
what
it
was
,
and
he
exclaimed
quite
ruefully
:
"
I
am
very
sorry
—
I
am
very
sorry
.
"
"
You
ca
n't
help
it
,
"
meekly
said
Jones
,
"
you
must
do
your
duty
.
"
"
Why
that
's
what
I
always
say
,
"
cried
the
bailiff
with
a
second
oath
,
rather
bigger
than
the
first
,
"
a
man
must
do
his
duty
,
must
n't
he
?
"
and
a
third
oath
slipped
out
.
"
Do
n't
swear
,
pray
do
n't
!
"
said
Jones
.
"
And
if
I
do
,
may
I
be
—
"
here
the
swearing
bailiff
paused
aghast
at
what
he
was
going
to
add
.
"
I
ca
n't
help
myself
like
,
"
he
said
,
rather
ruefully
,
"
it
's
second
natur
,
you
see
,
second
natur
.
But
I
'll
try
and
not
do
it
—
I
'll
try
.
"
And
speaking
quite
softly
,
spite
of
his
swearing
propensities
,
he
looked
wistfully
at
Jones
;
but
the
childless
father
's
face
remained
a
blank
.
"
Make
yourself
at
home
,
"
he
said
in
a
subdued
voice
.
"
I
think
you
'll
find
all
you
want
in
that
cupboard
,
at
least
'
tis
all
I
have
.
"
And
he
resumed
his
place
by
the
dead
.
"
All
I
want
,
and
all
you
have
,
"
muttered
the
bailiff
with
his
head
in
the
cupboard
.
"
Then
faith
,
my
poor
fellow
,
'
tai
n't
much
.
"
The
day
was
chill
and
very
dreary
;
the
bailiff
smoked
his
pipe
by
the
low
smouldering
fire
,
and
yawned
over
a
dirty
old
newspaper
.
Two
hours
had
passed
thus
when
Jones
said
to
him
:
"
You
do
n't
want
for
anything
,
do
you
?
"
"
Why
no
,
"
musingly
replied
the
bailiff
,
taking
out
his
pipe
,
and
looking
up
from
his
paper
,
"
thank
you
,
I
ca
n't
say
I
want
for
anything
,
but
what
have
you
to
say
to
a
glass
of
grog
,
eh
?
"
He
rather
brightened
himself
at
the
idea
.
"
I
'll
send
for
anything
you
like
,
"
drearily
replied
Jones
,
and
it
was
plain
he
had
not
understood
as
relating
to
himself
the
kindly
meant
proposal
.
The
bailiff
rather
stiffly
said
,
he
wanted
nothing
.
"
Well
then
,
"
resumed
Jones
,
slipping
off
his
shoes
,
"
I
'll
leave
you
for
awhile
.
"
"
Why
,
where
are
you
going
?
"
cried
the
other
staring
.
"
There
,
"
said
Jones
,
and
raising
the
curtain
,
he
crept
in
to
his
dead
darling
.
The
curtain
shrouded
him
in
;
he
was
alone
—
alone
with
his
child
and
his
grief
.
A
little
child
he
had
cradled
her
in
his
arms
;
many
a
time
had
she
slept
in
that
fond
embrace
,
to
her
both
a
protection
and
a
caress
.
And
now
!
He
looked
at
the
little
pale
face
that
had
fallen
asleep
in
prayer
;
he
saw
it
lying
on
its
pillow
in
death-like
stillness
;
and
if
he
repressed
the
groan
that
rose
to
his
lips
the
deeper
was
his
anguish
.
Oh
,
passion
!
eloquent
pages
have
been
wasted
on
thy
woes
;
volumes
have
been
written
to
tell
mankind
of
thy
delights
and
thy
torments
.
To
no
other
tale
will
youth
bend
its
greedy
ear
,
of
no
other
feelings
will
man
acknowledge
the
power
to
charm
his
spirit
and
his
heart
.
And
here
was
one
who
knew
thee
not
in
name
or
in
truth
,
and
yet
who
drank
to
the
dregs
,
and
to
the
last
bitterness
his
cup
of
sorrow
.
Oh
!
miserable
and
unpoetic
griefs
of
the
prosaic
poor
.
Where
are
ye
,
elements
of
power
and
pathos
of
our
modern
epic
:
the
novel
?
A
wretched
shop
that
will
not
take
,
a
sickly
child
that
dies
!
Ay
,
and
were
the
picture
but
drawn
by
an
abler
hand
,
know
proud
reader
,
if
proud
thou
art
,
that
thy
very
heart
could
bleed
,
that
thy
very
soul
would
be
wrung
to
read
this
page
from
a
poor
man
's
story
.
And
so
he
lay
by
his
dead
,
swelling
with
a
tearless
agony
,
a
nameless
and
twofold
desolation
.
Gaze
not
on
that
grief
—
eye
of
man
:
thou
art
powerless
to
pity
,
for
thou
art
powerless
to
understand
.
"
Only
think
!
"
said
a
neighbour
to
Mrs.
Smith
,
"
Mr.
Jones
's
shutters
have
been
closed
the
whole
day
.
I
ca
n't
think
what
the
matter
is
.
"
"
Ca
n't
you
,
"
replied
Mrs.
Smith
laughing
,
"
why
,
woman
,
the
shop
is
shut
.
"
Ay
,
the
shop
was
shut
.
The
shop
which
Richard
Jones
had
opened
with
so
much
pride
—
the
shop
which
he
had
ever
linked
with
his
child
,
closed
on
the
day
of
her
death
,
and
never
reopened
.
He
did
not
care
.
His
little
ambition
was
wrecked
;
his
little
pride
was
broken
;
his
little
cruise
of
love
had
been
poured
forth
upon
the
earth
by
God
's
own
hand
;
it
was
empty
and
dry
;
arid
sand
and
dust
had
drunk
up
its
once
sweet
waters
.
What
a
man
without
ambition
,
pride
,
and
lore
may
be
,
he
had
become
in
the
one
day
that
bereaved
him
.
Pity
not
him
,
reader
;
his
tale
is
told
;
pity
him
whose
bitter
story
of
hope
and
disappointment
but
begins
as
I
write
,
and
as
you
read
.
For
mortal
hand
has
not
sounded
the
bitter
depth
of
such
woes
.
In
them
live
the
true
tragic
passions
that
else
seem
to
have
passed
from
the
earth
;
passions
that
could
rouse
the
meekest
to
revenge
and
wrath
,
if
daily
dew
from
heaven
fell
not
on
poor
parched
hearts
,
as
nightly
it
comes
down
from
the
skies
above
,
on
thirsting
earth
.
CHAPTER
XXI
.
A
time
may
come
when
the
London
churchyard
shall
be
remembered
as
a
thing
that
has
been
and
is
no
more
;
but
now
who
knows
it
not
?
Who
need
describe
the
serried
gravestones
that
mark
the
resting
places
in
this
sad
field
of
death
;
who
need
tell
how
they
stare
at
busy
passers
by
through
their
iron
grating
—
how
they
look
ghastly
,
like
the
guest
of
the
Egyptian
feast
,
dead
in
the
midst
of
tumult
and
riotous
life
.
Dreary
are
they
when
the
sun
shines
on
them
,
and
their
rank
weeds
,
the
sun
which
those
beneath
feel
not
,
but
more
dreary
by
far
when
the
drizzling
rain
pours
down
the
dark
church
walls
and
filters
into
the
sodden
earth
.
And
in
such
a
place
,
and
on
such
a
day
did
they
make
the
grave
of
Mary
Jones
.
Two
mourners
stood
by
:
a
woman
and
a
man
.
When
all
was
over
,
when
earth
had
closed
over
the
grave
and
its
contents
,
the
man
sat
down
on
a
neighbouring
gravestone
,
and
looked
at
that
red
mound
which
held
his
all
,
with
a
dreary
stolid
gaze
of
misery
and
woe
.
Rachel
bent
over
him
,
and
gently
laid
her
hand
on
his
shoulder
.
"
Mr.
Jones
,
you
must
come
!
"
she
said
.
He
made
no
reply
,
he
did
not
rise
,
and
when
she
took
his
hand
to
lead
him
away
,
he
yielded
without
resistance
.
She
took
him
to
her
own
house
.
Kindly
and
tenderly
she
led
him
,
like
a
little
child
,
and
a
child
he
seemed
to
have
become
,
helpless
,
inert
—
without
will
,
without
power
.
His
own
home
was
a
wreck
,
the
prey
of
creditors
,
who
found
but
little
there
,
yet
sufficient
,
for
their
claims
were
few
,
to
save
him
from
disgrace
.
Rachel
Gray
gave
him
the
room
where
his
child
once
had
slept
,
where
he
had
come
in
to
look
at
her
in
her
sleep
,
and
fondly
bent
over
her
pillow
:
he
burst
into
tears
as
he
entered
it
;
and
those
tears
relieved
him
,
and
did
him
good
.
At
the
end
of
two
days
he
rallied
from
his
torpor
;
he
awoke
,
he
remembered
he
was
a
man
born
to
work
,
to
earn
his
daily
bread
,
and
bear
the
burden
of
life
.
He
went
out
one
morning
,
and
looked
for
employment
.
Something
he
found
to
do
;
but
what
it
was
he
told
not
Rachel
.
When
she
gently
asked
,
he
shook
his
head
and
smiled
bitterly
.
"
It
do
n't
matter
.
Miss
Gray
,
"
he
said
;
"
it
do
n't
matter
.
"
No
doubt
it
was
some
miserable
,
poorly
paid
task
.
Yet
he
only
spoke
the
truth
,
when
he
said
it
mattered
little
.
He
lived
and
laboured
,
like
thousands
;
but
he
cared
not
for
to-day
,
and
thought
not
of
to-morrow
;
the
Time
of
Promise
and
of
Hope
had
for
ever
departed
.
What
though
he
should
feel
want
,
so
long
as
he
could
pay
his
weekly
rent
to
Rachel
Gray
,
he
cared
not
.
There
is
an
end
to
all
things
;
and
as
for
his
old
age
,
should
he
grow
old
,
had
he
not
the
parish
and
the
workhouse
?
And
so
Richard
Jones
could
drag
on
through
life
,
of
all
hopes
,
save
the
heavenly
hope
,
forsaken
.
But
Heaven
chose
to
chastise
and
humble
still
further
,
this
already
chastised
and
sorely
humbled
man
.
He
fell
ill
,
and
remained
for
weeks
on
his
sick
bed
,
a
burden
cast
on
the
slender
means
of
Rachel
Gray
.
In
vain
he
begged
and
prayed
to
be
sent
to
the
workhouse
or
some
hospital
;
Rachel
would
not
hear
of
it
.
She
kept
him
,
she
attended
on
him
with
all
the
devotedness
of
a
daughter
;
between
him
and
her
father
she
divided
her
time
.
Earnestly
Jones
prayed
for
death
:
the
boon
was
not
granted
;
he
recovered
.
They
sat
together
and
alone
one
evening
in
the
quiet
little
parlour
—
alone
,
for
Thomas
Gray
was
no
one
,
when
there
came
a
knock
at
the
door
,
and
the
visitor
admitted
by
Rachel
,
proved
to
be
Joseph
Saunders
.
"
Mr.
Jones
is
within
,
"
hesitatingly
said
Rachel
"
And
I
just
want
to
speak
to
him
,
"
briefly
replied
Saunders
,
"
so
that
's
lucky
.
"
He
walked
into
the
parlour
as
he
spoke
;
Rachel
followed
,
wondering
what
was
to
be
the
issue
.
On
seeing
his
enemy
,
poor
Jones
reddened
slightly
but
the
flush
soon
died
away
,
and
in
a
meek
,
subdued
voice
,
he
was
the
first
to
say
"
good
evening
.
"
"
Sorry
to
hear
you
have
been
ill
,
"
said
Saunders
sitting
down
,
"
but
you
are
coming
round
,
ai
n't
you
?
"
"
I
am
much
better
,
"
was
the
quiet
reply
.
"
Got
anything
to
do
?
"
bluntly
asked
Saunders
.
"
Nothing
as
yet
,
"
answered
Jones
with
a
subdued
groan
,
for
he
thought
of
Rachel
,
so
poor
herself
,
and
the
burden
he
was
to
her
.
"
Well
then
,
Mr.
Jones
;
just
listen
to
me
!
"
said
Saunders
,
drawing
his
chair
near
,
"
I
know
you
have
a
grudge
against
me
.
"
"
You
have
ruined
me
,
"
said
Jones
.
"
Pshaw
,
man
,
'
twas
all
fair
,
all
in
the
way
of
business
,
"
exclaimed
Saunders
a
little
impatiently
.
"
You
have
ruined
me
,
"
said
Jones
again
;
"
but
I
forgive
you
,
I
have
long
ago
forgiven
you
,
and
the
shadow
of
a
grudge
against
you
,
or
living
man
,
I
have
not
,
thank
God
!
"
"
That
's
all
right
enough
,
"
emphatically
said
Saunders
;
"
still
,
Mr.
Jones
,
you
say
I
have
ruined
you
.
It
is
n't
the
first
time
either
that
you
have
said
so
,
and
with
some
people
,
I
may
as
well
tell
you
it
has
injured
me
.
"
"
I
am
sorry
if
it
has
,
"
meekly
said
Jones
.
"
And
I
do
n't
care
a
button
,
"
frankly
declared
Saunders
,
"
but
as
I
was
saying
,
that
's
your
belief
,
your
impression
;
and
to
be
sure
it
's
true
enough
in
one
sense
,
but
then
,
Mr.
Jones
,
you
should
not
look
at
your
side
of
the
question
only
.
Mr.
Smithson
meant
to
set
up
a
grocer
's
shop
long
before
you
opened
yours
;
he
spoke
to
me
about
it
,
and
if
I
had
only
agreed
then
,
it
was
done
;
you
came
,
to
be
sure
,
but
what
of
that
?
the
street
was
as
free
to
us
as
to
you
;
that
I
lodged
in
your
house
was
an
accident
;
I
did
not
know
when
I
took
your
room
that
I
should
supplant
you
some
day
.
I
did
not
know
Smithson
had
still
kept
that
idea
in
his
head
,
and
that
finding
no
situation
I
should
be
glad
to
consent
at
last
.
Well
,
I
did
consent
,
and
I
did
compete
with
you
,
and
knocked
you
over
,
as
it
were
,
but
Mr.
Jones
,
would
not
another
have
done
it
?
And
was
it
not
all
honourable
,
fair
play
?
"
"
Well
,
I
suppose
it
was
,
"
sadly
replied
Jones
,
"
and
since
it
was
a
settled
thing
that
I
was
to
be
a
ruined
man
,
I
suppose
I
ought
not
to
care
who
did
it
.
"
"
Come
,
that
's
talking
sense
,
"
said
Saunders
,
with
a
nod
of
approbation
,
"
and
now
,
Mr.
Jones
,
we
'll
come
to
business
,
for
I
need
not
tell
you
nor
Miss
Gray
either
,
that
I
did
not
come
in
here
to
rip
up
old
sores
.
You
must
know
that
the
young
fellow
who
used
to
serve
in
my
shop
has
taken
himself
off
,
he
's
going
to
Australia
,
he
says
,
but
that
's
neither
here
nor
there
;
I
have
a
regard
for
you
,
Mr.
Jones
,
and
having
injured
you
without
malice
,
I
should
like
to
do
you
a
good
turn
of
my
own
free
will
;
and
then
there
's
my
wife
,
who
was
quite
cut
up
when
she
heard
you
had
lost
your
little
daughter
,
and
who
has
such
a
regard
for
Miss
Gray
,
but
that
's
neither
here
nor
there
;
the
long
and
short
of
it
is
,
will
you
serve
in
my
shop
,
and
have
a
good
berth
and
moderate
wages
,
and
perhaps
an
increase
if
the
business
prospers
?
"
Poor
Richard
Jones
!
This
was
the
end
of
all
his
dreams
,
his
schemes
,
his
anger
,
his
threatened
revenge
!
And
yet
,
strange
to
say
,
he
felt
it
very
little
.
Every
strong
and
living
feeling
lay
buried
in
a
grave
.
His
soul
was
as
a
thing
dead
within
him
;
his
pride
had
crumbled
into
dust
,
as
Mary
would
have
said
:
his
spirit
was
gone
.
The
humiliation
of
accepting
Joseph
Saunders
proposal
,
—
and
,
however
strange
,
it
was
certainly
well
and
kindly
meant
—
Richard
Jones
did
not
consider
.
He
looked
at
the
advantages
,
and
found
them
manifest
;
there
lay
the
means
of
paying
Rachel
,
of
covering
his
few
debts
,
and
of
securing
to
his
wearied
life
the
last
and
dearly-bought
boon
of
repose
.
Awhile
he
reflected
,
then
said
aloud
:
"
I
shall
be
very
glad
of
it
,
I
am
very
much
obliged
to
you
,
Mr.
Saunders
.
"
"
Well
,
then
,
it
's
done
,
"
said
Mr.
Saunders
,
rising
,
"
good
night
,
Jones
,
cheer
up
,
old
fellow
.
Good
night
,
Miss
Gray
;
Jane
sends
her
love
,
you
know
.
Sorry
the
old
gentleman
's
no
better
.
"
And
away
he
departed
,
very
well
satisfied
with
the
success
of
his
errand
.
"
Oh
!
Mr.
Jones
!
"
exclaimed
Rachel
,
when
she
returned
to
the
parlour
.
"
Do
n't
mention
it
,
"
he
said
with
a
faint
smile
,
"
I
do
n't
mind
it
,
Miss
Gray
.
"
"
But
could
you
not
have
stayed
here
?
"
she
asked
.
"
And
be
a
burden
upon
you
I
that
's
what
I
have
done
too
long
,
Miss
Gray
.
"
"
But
until
you
found
employment
elsewhere
,
you
might
have
remained
.
"
"
His
house
is
as
good
as
any
;
his
bread
is
not
more
bitter
than
another
's
,
"
replied
Jones
,
in
a
subdued
voice
,
"
besides
,
now
that
my
Mary
is
gone
,
what
need
I
care
,
Miss
Gray
?
"
And
as
he
saw
that
her
eyes
were
dim
,
he
added
:
"
You
need
not
pity
me
,
Miss
Gray
,
the
bitterness
of
my
trouble
is
,
and
has
long
been
over
.
My
Mary
is
not
dead
for
me
.
She
is
,
and
ever
will
be
,
living
for
her
old
father
,
until
the
day
of
meeting
.
And
whilst
I
am
waiting
for
that
day
,
you
do
not
think
I
care
about
what
befalls
me
.
"
CHAPTER
XXII
.
Once
more
Rachel
was
alone
.
Once
more
solitude
and
the
silence
of
the
quiet
street
,
shrouded
her
in
.
A
new
life
now
began
for
Rachel
Gray
.
Like
a
plant
long
bent
by
adverse
winds
,
she
slowly
recovered
elasticity
of
spirit
,
and
lightness
of
heart
.
What
she
might
have
been
,
but
for
the
gloom
of
her
youth
,
Rachel
never
was
;
but
as
the
dark
cloud
,
which
had
long
hung
over
her
,
rolled
away
,
as
she
could
move
,
speak
,
eat
,
and
think
unquestioned
in
her
little
home
,
a
gleam
of
sunshine
,
pale
but
pure
,
shone
over
her
life
with
that
late-won
liberty
.
Her
speech
became
more
free
,
her
smile
was
more
frequent
,
her
whole
manner
more
open
and
cheerful
.
Rachel
lived
,
however
,
both
by
taste
