'Oh, Julia, don't speak like that; you will never bid me good-bye. You will
never leave me--promise me that--you are my only friend. Oh, Julia, promise
me that you will never leave me.'

Tears rose in Julia's eyes, and taking the girl in her arms, she said,
'I'll never leave you, my dear girl, until you yourself wish it.'

'I wish it? Oh, Julia, you do not know me. I have lost everything, Julia,
but I mustn't lose you... After all, it doesn't so much matter, so long as
we are not separated. I don't care about money, and we can have a nice
little house in London all to ourselves. And if we get too hard up, we'll
both go out as daily governesses. I think I could teach a little music, to
young children, you know; you'd teach the older ones.' Emily looked at
Julia inquiringly, and going over to the piano, attempted to play her
favourite polka. Julia, who had once worked for her daily bread, and earned
it in a sort of way by giving music-lessons, smiled sadly at the girl's
ignorance of life.

'I see,' said Emily, who was quick to divine every shade of sentiment
passing in the minds of those she loved; 'you don't think I could teach
even the little children.'

'My dear Emily, I hope it will never come to your having to try.'

'I must do something to get a living,' she replied, looking vaguely and
wistfully into the fire. 'How unfortunate all this is--that horrid, horrid
old man. But supposing he had asked you to marry him--he wasn't nice, but
you are older than I, and if you had married him you would have become, in
a way, my stepmother. But what a charming stepmother! Oh, how I should have
loved that!'