give her some notion of it on the piano, and since she had been in
London she had heard it at St Mary's, Moorfields. She broke down and
wept, but there was something new in her sorrow, and it seemed as if
a certain Pity overshadowed her.

She had barely recovered herself when she saw a woman, apparently
about fifty, coming towards her with a wicker basket on her arm. She
sat down beside Madge, put her basket on the ground, and wiped her
face with her apron.

'Marnin' miss! its rayther hot walkin', isn't it? I've come all the
way from Darkin, and I'm goin' to Great Oakhurst. That's a longish
step there and back again; not that this is the nearest way, but I
don't like climbing them hills, and then when I get to Letherhead I
shall have a lift in a cart.'

Madge felt bound to say something as the sunburnt face looked kind
and motherly.

'I suppose you live at Great Oakhurst?'

'Yes. I do: my husband, God bless him! he was a kind of foreman at
The Towers, and when he died I was left alone and didn't know what to
be at, as both my daughters were out and one married; so I took the
general shop at Great Oakhurst, as Longwood used to have, but it
don't pay for I ain't used to it, and the house is too big for me,
and there isn't nobody proper to mind it when I goes over to Darkin
for anything.'

'Are you going to leave?'