s making us all miserable.'

Emma listened, expecting from phrase to phrase some word which would be
to her a terrible enlightenment But Alice had ceased, and the word still
unspoken.

'You say he sent me a message?'

She did not ask directly the cause of Mrs. Mutimer's anger. Instinct
told her that to hear the message would explain all else.

'Emma, I'm afraid to tell you. You'll blame _me_, like mother did.'

'I shan't blame you, Alice. Will you please tell me the message?'

Emma's lips seemed to speak without her volition. The rest o her face
was fixed and cold.

'He's married, Emma.'

'He asked you to tell me?'

Alice was surprised at the self-restraint proved by so quiet an
interrogation.

'Yes, he did. Emma, I'm so, so sorry! If only you'll believe I'm sorry,
Emma! He _made_ me come and tell you. He said if I didn't you'd have to
find out by chance, because he couldn't for shame tell you himself. And
he couldn't tell mother neither. I've had it all to do. If you knew what
I've gone through with mother! It's very hard that other people should
suffer so much just on his account. I am really sorry for you, Emma.'

'Who is it he's married?' Emma asked. Probably all the last speech had
been but a vague murmur to her ears.

'Some one at Wanley.'

'A lady?'

'Yes, I suppose she's a lady.'

'You didn't see her, then?'

'Yes, I saw her. I don't like her.'

Poor Alice meant this to be soothing. Emma knew it, and smiled.

'I don't think she cares much after all,' Alice said to herself.

'But was that the message?'

'Only to tell you of it, Emma. There was something else,' she added
immediately; 'not exactly a message, but he told me, and I dare say he
thought I should let you know. He said that of course you were to have
the money still as usual.'

Over the listener's face came a cloud, a deep, turbid red. It was not
anger, but shame which rose from the depths of her being. Her head sank;
she turned and walked aside.

'You're not angry with _me_, Emma?'

'Not angry at all, Alice,' was the reply in a monotone.

'I must say good-bye now. I hope you won t take on much. And I hope Jane
'll soon be better.'

'Thank you. I must go up to her; she doesn't like me to be away long.'

Alice went before up the kitchen stairs, the dark, narrow stairs which
now seemed to her so poverty-stricken. Emma did not speak, but pressed
her hand at the door.

Kate stood above her on the first landing, and, as Emm