The white earth, the headstones sprinkled with snow, the vast grey sky over which darkness was already creeping, the wind and the clergyman's voice joining in woful chant, these alone remained with her to mark the day.
Between it and the days which then commenced lay formless void.
On Tuesday morning Alice Mutimer came to the house.

Mrs.Clay chanced to be from home; Emma received the visitor and led her down into the kitchen.
'I am glad you have come,' she said; 'I wanted to see you to-day.' 'Are you feeling better ?' Alice asked.

She tried in vain to speak with the friendliness of past days; that could never be restored.

Her advantages of person and dress were no help against the embarrassment caused in her by the simple dignity of the wronged and sorrowing girl.
Emma replied that she was better, then asked: 'Have you come only to see me; or for something else ?' 'I wanted to know how you were; but I've brought you something as well' She took an envelope from within her muff.

Emma shook her head.
'No, nothing more,' she said, in a tone removed alike from resentment and from pathos; 'I want you, please, to say that we can t take anything after this.' 'But what are you going to do, Emma ?' 'To leave this house and live as we did before.' 'Oh, but you can't do that What does Kate say ?' 'I haven't told her yet; I'm going to do so to-day.' 'But she'll feel it very hard with the children.' The children were sitting together in a corner of the kitchen.