was proclaimed, which lasted up to the day of his death. M'Kay and I
agreed to make as much of Mrs. Cardinal as we could, and yielding to
urgent invitation, she came to the room. This wonderfully helped to
heal her. She began to feel that she was not overlooked, put on one
side, or despised, and the bonds which bound her constricted lips
into bitterness were loosened.

Another friend, and the last whom I shall name, was a young man named
Clark. He was lame, and had been so from childhood. His father was
a tradesman, working hard from early morning till late at night, and
burdened with a number of children. The boy Richard, shut out from
the companionship of his fellows, had a great love of books. When he
left school his father did not know what to do with him--in fact
there was only one occupation open to him, and that was clerical work
of one kind or another. At last he got a place in a house in Fleet
Street, which did a large business in those days in sending
newspapers into the country. His whole occupation all day long was
to write addresses, and for this he received twenty-five shillings a
week, his hours being from nine o'clock till seven. The office in
which he sat was crowded, and in order to squeeze the staff into the
smallest space, rent being dear, a gallery had been run round the
wall about four feet from the ceiling. This was provided with desks
and gas lamps, and up there Clark sat, artificial light being
necessary four days out of five. He came straight from the town in
which his father lived to Fleet Street, and once settled in it there
seemed no chance of change for the better. He knew what his father's
struggles were; he could not go back to him, and he had not the
energy to attempt to lift himself. It is very doubtful too whether
he could have succeeded in achieving any improvement, whatever his
energy might have been. He had got lodgings in Newcastle Street, and