of making his life very different. All sorts of people have
suddenly discovered that he really was a very deserving man, and that
something ought long since to have been done for him. I don't know what
has been told you of his history. He was once in independent business; I
don't know exactly what. It was only utter failure that drove him to the
miserable clerkship. How admirable it was of a man in such circumstances
to have his daughter so well educated!'

Wilfrid smiled.

'Emily,' he said with gentle fervour, 'would have found her own way.'

'Ah, don't depreciate his care!' Mrs. Baxendale urged. 'You'll find out
by degrees what a great deal of heathen doubt there is in me; among
other things, I am impressed by the power of circumstances. Emily would
always have been a remarkable girl, no doubt; but, without her
education, you and I should not have been talking about her like this,
even if we had known her. We can't dispense with these aids; that's
where I feel the cruelty of depriving people of chances. Men and women
go to their graves in wretchedness who might have done noble things with
an extra pound a week to live upon. It does not sound lofty doctrine,
does it? But I have vast faith in the extra pound a week. Emily had the
advantage of it, however it was managed. I don't like to think of her as
she might have been without it. What was it Beatrice called me
yesterday? A materialist; yes, a materialist. It was a reproach, though
she said it in the kindest way; I took it as a compliment. We can't get
out of the world of material; how long will the mind support itself on
an insufficient supply of dry bread?'

Wilfrid's intellectual sympathies were being aroused by his new friend's
original way of talking. He began to feel a keen satisfaction at having
her near him in these troubles.

'Do you think,' he asked, returning to his immediate needs, 'that I
might write to her?'

'Not yet; you mustn't think of it yet.'

'Does Mrs. Hood--' he hesitated. 'Do you think Emily has told her
mother--has spoken to her of me?'

Mrs. Baxendale looked surprised. 'I can't say; I took it for granted.'

'I wonder why she was reluctant to do so?' Wilfrid said, already
speaking with complete freedom. 'Her father cannot have known; it would
have relieved his worst anxieties; he would surely never have been
driven to such things.'

'No; I think not. The poor girl will feel that, I fear. I suppose one
can get a glimpse of her reaso