ther fell into fretting, into hysteria; some
change in her life seemed imperative, and at length she persuaded her
husband to quit the town in which they lived, and begin life anew
elsewhere. Begin life anew! James Hood was forty years old; he
possessed, as the net result of his commercial enterprises, a capital of
a hundred and thirty pounds. The house, of course, could be let, and
would bring five-and-twenty pounds a year. This it was resolved to do.
He had had certain dealings in Dunfield, and in Dunfield he would strike
his tent--that is to say, in Banbrigg, whence he walked daily to a
little office in the town. Rents were lower in Banbrigg, and it was
beyond the range of certain municipal taxings.

Mrs. Hood possessed still her somewhat genteel furniture. One article
was a piano, and upon this she taught Emily her notes. It had been a
fairly good piano once, but the keys had become very loose. They were
looser than ever, now that Emily tried to play on them, on her return
from Surrey.

Business did not thrive in Dunfield; yet there was more than ever need
that it should, for to neglect Emily's education would be to deal
cruelly with the child--she would have nothing else to depend upon in
her battle with the world. Poor Emily A feeble, overgrown child, needing
fresh air, which she could not get, needing food of a better kind, just
as unattainable. Large-eyed, thin-checked Emily; she, too, already in
the clutch of the great brute world, the helpless victim of a
civilisation which makes its food of those the heart most pities. How
well if her last sigh had been drawn in infancy, if she had lain with
the little brother and sister in that gaunt, grimy cemetery, under the
shadow of mill chimneys! She was reserved for other griefs; for
consolations, it is true, but--

Education she did get, by hook or by crook; there was dire pinching to
pay for it, and, too well knowing this, the child strove her utmost to
use the opportunities offered her. Each morning going into Dunfield,
taking with her some sandwiches that were called dinner, walking home
again by tea-time, tired, hungry--ah, hungry No matter the weather, she
must walk her couple of miles--it was at least so far to the school. In
winter you saw her set forth with her waterproof and umbrella, the
too-heavy bag of books on her arm; sometimes the wind and rain beating
as if to delay her--they, too, cruel. In summer the hot days tried her
perhaps still more; she reac