OncomingdownstairsIfoundMrsForresterwaitingformeattheentrancetothedining—parlour；shedrewmein，andwhenthedoorwasshut，shetriedtwoorthreetimestobeginonsomesubject，whichwassounapproachableapparently，thatIbegantodespairofourevergettingtoaclearunderstanding。Atlastoutitcame；
thepooroldladytremblingallthetimeasifitwereagreatcrimewhichshewasexposingtodaylight，intellingmehowvery，verylittleshehadtoliveupon；aconfessionwhichshewasbroughttomakefromadreadlestweshouldthinkthatthesmallcontributionnamedinherpaperboreanyproportiontoherloveandregardforMissMatty。Andyetthatsumwhichshesoeagerlyrelinquishedwas，intruth，morethanatwentiethpartofwhatshehadtoliveupon，andkeephouse，andalittleserving—maid，allasbecameonebornaTyrrell。Andwhenthewholeincomedoesnotnearlyamounttoahundredpounds，togiveupatwentiethofitwillnecessitatemanycarefuleconomies，andmanypiecesofself—
denial，smallandinsignificantintheworld’saccount，butbearingadifferentvalueinanotheraccount—bookthatIhaveheardof。
Shedidsowishshewasrich，shesaid，andthiswishshekeptrepeating，withnothoughtofherselfinit，onlywithalonging，yearningdesiretobeabletoheapupMissMatty’smeasureofcomforts。
ItwassometimebeforeIcouldconsoleherenoughtoleaveher；