"What made the difference, my poor woman?" was the next question, and Jane hung her head. She had long ceased to blame herself for her share in the wrong which had blighted her life. It all came back to her now; conscience spoke, and would not be silenced, and told her that but for her wrong-doing, hers might still have been a happy home.
"It was my fault, ma'am," she faltered. "I was careless and neglectful of his comforts, and spoke sharply to him for no earthly reason, and he's that changed, I don't know him, and he gets worse. Look here, ma'am," and opening her dress she revealed a bruise, inflicted by a cruel hand, "that's the first time he's ever given me a real blow; but he'll not stop at that."
"Poor thing," said Mrs. Martyn, shuddering at the revelation of a sister's woe.
"Couldn't you try and win him back?"
"I tried years ago, and it was no use, and now he isn't worth it, ma'am," answered Jane.
"But suppose he could be drawn from his evil companions, and strong drink! Don't you think it would be worth while to have an affectionate father for your children, and a tender husband for yourself, Mrs. Watson?"
"Yes, ma'am, if it could be done; but I don't believe it could," replied Jane, despondingly.
"Will you promise me to make one more effort if I help you, and ask Mr. Martyn to look after your husband? He wouldn't be the first man whom my husband has helped out of the mire."
A flash of hope lit up Jane's face, and she said: "You're very kind to take any interest in a stranger, ma'am, I'm sure, and if it will please you, I'll try once more."
"That's right; now go on with your work as quickly as possible, and I'll do my best to arrange some plan for you."