d, 'and was sent
to learn her duty, where there was twenty times less duty, and more
wickedness, and wrong, and infamy, than here. And Alice Marwood is come
back a woman. Such a woman as she ought to be, after all this. In good
time, there will be more solemnity, and more fine talk, and more strong
arm, most likely, and there will be an end of her; but the gentlemen
needn't be afraid of being thrown out of work. There's crowds of little
wretches, boy and girl, growing up in any of the streets they live in,
that'll keep them to it till they've made their fortunes.'

The old woman leaned her elbows on the table, and resting her face upon
her two hands, made a show of being in great distress--or really was,
perhaps.

'There! I have done, mother,' said the daughter, with a motion of her
head, as if in dismissal of the subject. 'I have said enough. Don't let
you and I talk of being dutiful, whatever we do. Your childhood was like
mine, I suppose. So much the worse for both of us. I don't want to blame
you, or to defend myself; why should I? That's all over long ago. But
I am a woman--not a girl, now--and you and I needn't make a show of our
history, like the gentlemen in the Court. We know all about it, well
enough.'

Lost and degraded as she was, there was a beauty in her, both of
face and form, which, even in its worst expression, could not but be
recognised as such by anyone regarding her with the least attention. As
she subsided into silence, and her face which had been harshly agitated,
quieted down; while her dark eyes, fixed upon the fire, exchanged the
reckless light that had animated them, for one that was softened by
something like sorrow; there shone through all her wayworn misery and
fatigue, a ray of the departed radiance of the fallen angel.'

Her mother, after watching her for some time without speaking, ventured
to steal her withered hand a little nearer to her across the table; and
finding that she permitted this, to touch her face, and smooth her hair.
With the feeling, as it seemed, that the old woman was at least sincere
in this show of interest, Alice made no movement to check her; so,
advancing by degrees, she bound up her daughter's hair afresh, took off
her wet shoes, if they deserved the name, spread something dry upon her
shoulders, and hovered humbly about her, muttering to herself, as she
recognised her old features and expression more and more.

'You are very poor, mother, I see,' said Alice