"Yes, darling, there is God's love, and there is your uncle's, I know, to say nothing of mine. I am only your old nurse, but you have all the best love of my heart, for who have I beside?"
"I am wickedly, horribly unthankful, both to God and the one friend to whom I can open my heart. I might speak to my uncle, but I do not care to make him feel more troubled on my account. About my character there will be no difficulty: Mrs. Caruth, of Fernsclough, will answer all inquiries."
"Is she home, dearie? She was abroad somewhere when your father was taken."
"Yes; but she returned. I heard from her ten days ago. I have told her just enough to show her that The Chase will never be a home for me. She urges me to go to her for a long visit, and says, that being alone, my presence would cheer her greatly."
"Then why not go, darling?"
"Because this invitation is really an offer of a home, very delicately made; but I could not again eat the bread of dependence, Sarah. Besides, fancy my meeting the guests at Fernsclough in such attire as this."
"But you can have anything, if you will let me get you thirty or fifty pounds of my savings. You may take all I have, for that matter, only you would not need that, I know."
Joyce threw her arms round Sarah's neck and kissed her passionately.
"Bless you, and thank you a thousand times!" she cried. "But I would not rob you of your hard earnings for the world. Do you think when the relatives on whom I have a claim care nothing about my clothes, I could bear to spend on myself what you have earned by years of toil?"
Sarah warmly returned the embrace, saying as she did so—