reached home without adventure, limped to the door, and let herself
in with her latch-key unseen.

The air and Sam's presence had revived her: her cheeks were quite
pink--almost beautiful. She had something to live for in addition to
her son. A woman of pure instincts, she knew there had been nothing
really wrong in the journey, but supposed it conventionally to be
very wrong indeed.

Soon, however, she gave way to the temptation of going with him
again, and on this occasion their conversation was distinctly tender,
and Sam said he never should forget her, notwithstanding that she had
served him rather badly at one time. After much hesitation he told
her of a plan it was in his power to carry out, and one he should
like to take in hand, since he did not care for London work: it was
to set up as a master greengrocer down at Aldbrickham, the county-
town of their native place. He knew of an opening--a shop kept by
aged people who wished to retire.

'And why don't you do it, then, Sam?' she asked with a slight
heartsinking.

'Because I'm not sure if--you'd join me. I know you wouldn't--
couldn't! Such a lady as ye've been so long, you couldn't be a wife
to a man like me.'

'I hardly suppose I could!' she assented, also frightened at the
idea.

'If you could,' he said eagerly, 'you'd on'y have to sit in the back