She did not exactly cry, but she was very near it.
Miss Balquidder called over the stair-head, in her quick, imperative voice-- "David, is your wife away to her bed yet ?" "No, ma'am." "Then tell her to fetch this young woman to the kitchen and give her some supper.

And afterward, will you see her safe home, poor lassie?
She's awfully tired, you see." "Yes, ma'am." And following David's gray head, Elizabeth, for the first time since she came to London, took a comfortable meal in a comfortable kitchen, seasoned with such stories of Miss Balquidder's goodness and generosity, that when, an hour after, she went home and to sleep, it was with a quieter and more hopeful than she could have believed possible under the circumstances..