To which letter Mrs. Mortomley received the following reply:--

"Esther Hummerson presents her duty to Mrs. Mortomley, and I will enter upon your service next Tuesday evening, the 17th.

"With much respect, "Your humble servant, "E. HUMMERSON."

It was quite natural for Dolly to forget all about the advent of the new maid; to be taken entirely by surprise when it was announced that a young woman (Hummerson by name) was in the hall and wanted to speak to her.

But, in a moment, Dolly remembered. Mrs. Mortomley was in _demi-toilette_ at that moment. A brown silk dress cut square in the front, skirt trailing behind her over the oilcloth in the hall, plain gold bracelets, plain gold necklet with cross set in turquoise depending.

To Esther Hummerson she fluttered. "I do hope you will be comfortable with me," she said. "And this is your Aunt who has come with you? Jane"

(this to the parlour-maid), "see that Esther's aunt has something to eat; and--what is the name of your aunt? oh! Mrs. Bush; if you would like to stay here for the night, we will try to make you comfortable. No. Well, then, good evening; and to-morrow, Esther, I can talk to you."

Thus Mrs. Mortomley. But the soul of the girl had in that sentence gone out, and was knit unto that of Mrs. Mortomley as the soul of Jonathan to that of David.

What was it? Dress, manner, ornament, tone of voice, expression of face?

They all mixed together, and produced the effect of first love in the heart of the maid for the mistress.

Never had Mrs. Mortomley chanced to have so little to say to a servant as to this Esther Hummerson, who for nearly a year pursued the even tenour of her way, finding the place comfortable, the work light, Dolly unexacting, and Miss Halling sometimes a little hard to please.

The gala days at Homewood were over. The cake and ale of life had lost their flavour for more than one inmate of the house. Anxiety, illness, pecuniary difficulties, trade annoyances, made Mortomley anything rather than the host of old; whilst Dolly, even if the shadow lying over her husband had not oppressed her also, must have grown changed and dull by reason of the constant presence of Miss Halling's friends.

Mr. Deane was becoming impatient to take home his bride. The alterations considered necessary on such an occasion were finished; the workmen had put the last touches necessary to make his mansion perfect. The new dining-room was papered with the darkest flock paper ever manufactured by man. Miss Deane had found a house to suit her at Brighton, and everything at last was ready for Miss Halling's reception. Miss Halling, however, did not desire to leave Homewood till she could leave with a flourish of trumpets announcing the fact, and the marriage had consequently been deferred, which is almost as bad plan to adopt with marriages as with auctions.

All at once, so it appeared to Dolly, a gloom had settled over Homewood; through all the months November weather seemed to prevail in the once sun-shiny rooms.

Things had arrived at a pass when dress was a vanity and jewellery a snare. Jones, who had a high idea of the importance attached to her office, would have worried her mistress to death at this juncture, but Esther, who had never yet been in any situation where she was permitted to take much upon herself, simply performed what work came to her hand, and did as she was told.

Evening after evening she spread out the brightest and prettiest dresses, hoping to see Mrs. Mortomley array herself like a second Queen of Sheba; and if she sighed when directed to put them away again, Dolly never heard her; if she lamented over the non-exhibition of ornaments which were never worn, she took care to give no audible expression to her feelings.

Love makes the foolish wise. Eventually affection for Mrs. Mortomley opened her eyes to the real state of affairs.

Her mistress was miserable. In that burst of tears Dolly understood the girl knew this.

"I will tell her all," said Mrs. Mortomley mentally; and ere she slept she did.

Under the circumstances, perhaps, a bold experiment, but successful.

"And now, Esther," finished Mrs. Mortomley, "you know precisely how we are situated at present. How we shall be situated in the future I have not any idea. Cook and Jane, as you are aware, have given me notice, and I think it might be well for you to look out too."

"Never, ma'am," was the answer. "I would rather have a crust with you than joints every day with another mistress. And it don't matter about wages, ma'am," she went on; "I don't want no wages till you can afford to give them."

For once Mrs. Mortomley rose to the occasion, and held her impulses well in hand, while she answered,

"You had better go to bed Esther, and we will talk all this over again in a day or two. Twelve o'clock at night is not the time for you to make or for me to accept such an offer; because it may mar a good part of your future, my dear," she added softly.

Already Dolly was beginning to understand the most beautiful part of life is that which returns a second time no more.

Till the green leaves of her youth were lying brown and withered under her feet, she never realised that she had left behind for ever the flowery dells bright with primroses and sweet with violets; that spring for her was over--and not spring merely, but summer also. Summer roses would greet new-comers along time's highway, but charm her with perfume and colour, with the seductive and subtle charm of old, never again--ah!

never.

And she had loved the world and its pleasures with a love which seemed to duller natures almost wicked in its intensity; and the world was now turning its dark side to her, and its pleasures were for others, not for her.

Well, should she grumble? Those who imagined Mrs. Mortomley would bemoan herself when the cake was eaten were wrong. All she asked now was, that the figurative, dry morsel, which promised to furnish their future wants, should be swallowed in peace.

"Without those dreadful men, and the fear of them," she whispered in her prayers. What had she not gone through at Homewood by reason of persons left in possession?

But the end was drawing nigh. It was so near that when Rupert told her a "man" had been sent in at the instance of one creditor, and a couple of hours after Esther came with a frightened face to say there was "another of those people," she only said, "Very well."

She said the same, only more wearily, in answer to the two servants who, having given notice previously, now wished to leave at once, having heard of situations likely to suit.

"Supposing we had arranged to give a dinner party to-day, Rupert!" she remarked, with an attempt at cheerfulness.

Rupert did not answer. He was white almost to his lips. He had begun to realise their position, to understand fully what Mortomley's too tardy liquidation might mean to Mortomley's relatives.

Miss Halling also was in anything rather than high spirits, and wished with all her heart she had consented to a quiet wedding months previously. Altogether the domestic atmosphere at Homewood was oppressive, when towards afternoon a telegram arrived from Mr. Deane.

"Have not yet been to solicitors. Forde wishes no steps taken till he has seen you."

Mrs. Mortomley read the message through and then went in search of Rupert.

"What is the meaning of that?" she asked.

"It means that he intends to try to cajole or threaten you to keep affairs moving a little longer. Now, Dolly, will you be firm? Promise me you will be firm."

She turned and looked at him.

"Do you mean that you think I shall lack firmness to end this life? Do you think I shall be influenced by any one when Archie is lying ill upstairs and two men are in possession downstairs? You do not quite know me yet, Rupert. The person is not in existence who shall threaten or cajole _me_ into letting my husband be killed before my eyes, if I can save him."

"You had better not see Forde, however, if it be possible to avoid doing so."

"I do not want to see him," she replied; "but if I must, you need not fear that I shall give way now."

Though it is easy enough to be brave in presence of an enemy, it is not always so easy to maintain a courageous heart while expecting his coming; and, to state the truth, both Mrs. Mortomley and Rupert found the time which intervened between the receipt of the telegram and the arrival of Mr. Forde, take a considerable amount of courage out of them.

There was the waiting; there was the wondering; there was the doubt; there was the desire to conciliate a creditor, and the knowledge it would be simple insanity to allow that creditor to compromise their future further.

The beauty of the afternoon was over. A century as it seemed stretched between yesterday and to-day, when at last a carriage drove up to the door, and two visitors alighted. One was Mr. Forde, the other, Esther described as a short fat gentleman with a large head.

They were shown into the drawing-room, where Rupert received them.

Presently he rang the bell, and desired Esther to inform Mrs. Mortomley Mr. Forde wished to see her.

Straight downstairs went Mrs. Mortomley. In vain Esther tried to pull out her mistress's bows and ribbons; Dolly swept along the passage too swiftly for such details to be attended to.

With the summons Dolly's courage flowed, and she feared that a second's delay might find it ebb. Downstairs as rapidly as her feet could carry her, went Mrs. Mortomley. Across the large old-fashioned hall, into the drawing-room, once a bower of flowers, now bare of bud and blossom by reason of the frosts which even in that golden September time had nipped the hope and the purpose of those who formerly loved to be surrounded by all things sweet, by all things bright and graceful.

As she entered, Mr. Kleinwort, who would have tried to be civil to a woman had the task of conducting her to the scaffold been confided to him, rose and greeted Madam, whom he had never previously beheld, with a low bow and sweeping wave of his hat. Mr. Forde having, however, arrived at a state of mind in which the ordinary courtesies of life seemed worse than mockeries, remained seated, and only acknowledged her presence with a nod.

Dolly looked at him in mute astonishment. No circumstance in the whole of their experience, not even the appearance of the sheriff's officers, had so amazed her as the sight of Mr. Forde, leaning back in a chair, his hands buried in his pockets, his hat tilted a little over his eyes.