when it was
dark, Caldigate with the carriage again returned to the town, where he
slept as he had done on the previous night. Again their food was brought
to the two women in the hall, and again each of them swallowed a cup of
tea as they prepared themselves for the work of the night.

In the hall there was a gas-stove, which was kept burning, and gave a
faint glimmer, so that each could see the outline of the other. Light
beyond that there was none. In the weary long hours of nights such as
these, nights passed on the seats of railway carriages, or rougher
nights, such as some of us remember, on the outside of coaches, or
sitting by the side of the sick, sleep will come early and will early
go. The weariness of the past day will produce some forgetfulness for an
hour or two, and then come the slow, cold, sad hours through which the
dawn has to be expected. Between two and three these unfortunates were
both awake, the poor baby having been but lately carried back from its
mother to its cradle. Then suddenly Mrs. Bolton heard rather than saw
her daughter slip down from her chair on to the ground and stretch
herself along upon the hard floor. 'Hester,' she said; but Hester did
not answer. 'Hester, are you hurt?' When there was still no answer, the
mother got up, with limbs so stiff that she could hardly use them, and
stood over her child. 'Hester, speak to me.'

'I will never speak to you more,' said the daughter.

'My child, why will you not go to your comfortable wholesome bed?'

'I will not go; I will die here.'

'The door shall not be locked. You shall have the key with you. I will
do nothing to hurt you if you will go to your bed.'

'I will not go; leave me alone. You cannot love me, mamma, or you would
not treat me like this.'

'Love you! Oh, my child! If you knew! If you could understand! Why am I
doing this? Is it not because I feel it to be my duty? Will you let me
take you to your bed?'

'No, never. I, too, can do my duty,--my duty to my husband. It is to
remain here till I can get to him, even though I should die.' Then she
turned her poor limbs on the hard floor, and the mother covered her with
a cloak and placed a cushion beneath her head. Then, after standing a
while over her child, she returned to her chair, and did not move or
speak again till the old cook came, with the first glimmer of the
morning, to inquire how the night had been passed.

'I cannot allow this; I cannot allow this,' said Mr.