"But then he would not have to feed me; I should live at home, you know. I'll go at once, and see Pearson. I can easily do it, for our land up there lies so much higher that I can keep an eye on the cattle all day long. We must repair the old boat. But tell me, Guy, why were you afraid I should not like this?"
"Oh, I don't know. You might have thought—"
"I suppose it is because I said that about writing to my father's people? But that's the very thing, Guy. I couldn't take their grudging charity; but I don't mind how hard I work, nor what I work at. I hope Pearson has not got a herd."
"I know he has not. One man he nearly hired, but then he found that he drank."
"Well, I don't drink," said Aymer, with a short laugh. "If I get this place, my wages will be so much clear gain, for with Guy and Katty to help, nothing will be neglected at home."
"And I've thought of something, too," said Clarice. "Helen, do you remember what you told me of Mrs. Wynne's surprise at the beauty of your needlework? Do you think she would give us a line to a shop in Dublin, saying we are fit people to be trusted? It's a shop where they sell children's clothes and ladies' things ready-made, and we, dear mother and I, were thinking of trying for employment; we were talking of it the very day before she became so ill. She had written, and sent a specimen of work; and the answer, which came that day, was that the work was beautiful, and that they would employ us, but we must get a line to say we might be trusted. They pay very well, too."
"What shop was it?" asked Helen.
"Mrs. Daly, 19, Grafton Street."
"Why, Mrs. Wynne deals with them!" cried Helen. "And I am sure she will recommend us; but I must send a specimen of my work, for I don't work quite as well as—as she did."
Poor Nelly! She broke down and cried; it was so hard to be forced to realise that the mother's work was done.