of spirits which left her no energy to move about. Ida knew that her
mother was often unhappy, but naturally could not dwell long on this
as soon as each successive occasion had passed away. Indeed, in her
heart, she almost welcomed such times, since she was then allowed to
sleep upstairs, one of her greatest joys. Lotty was only too well
aware of the physical weakness which was gaining upon her. She was
mentally troubled, moreover. Ida was growing up; there would come a
time, and that very shortly, when it would be necessary either for
them to part, or else for herself to change her mode of life.
Indeed, she had never from the first quite lost sight of her
intention to seek for an honest means of support; and of late years
the consciousness of her hopeless position had grown to an
ever-recurring trouble. She knew the proposed step was in reality
impossible to her, yet she persistently thought and talked of it. To
Mrs. Ledward she confided at least once a week, generally when she
paid her rent, her settled intention to go and find work of some
kind in the course of the next two or three days; till at length
this had become a standing joke with the landlady, who laughed
merrily as often as the subject was mentioned. Lotty had of late let
her thoughts turn to her father, whom she had never seen since their
parting. Not with any affection did she think of him, but, in her
despairing moments, it seemed to her impossible that he should still
refuse aid if she appealed to him for it. Several times of late she
had been on the point of putting her conviction to the test. She had
passed his house from time to time, and knew that he still lived
there. Perhaps the real reason of her hesitation was, not fear of
him, but a dread, which she would not confess to herself, lest he
should indeed prove obdurate, and so put an end to her last hope.
For what would become of her and of Ida if her health absolutely
failed? The poor creature shrank from the thought in horror. The