Then, as if by blessed inspiration, a great thought took shape in her despairing mind. At the still hour of night she suddenly sat up in the darkness, which seemed illumined by a wondrous hope. A few minutes motionless; the mental light grew dazzling; she sprang out of bed, partly dressed herself, and by the rays of a candle sat down to write a letter:
Dear Mr. Hunt,
"Yesterday I did not tell you the whole truth. I have nothing to live upon, and I must find employment or starve. My brother-in-law has been supporting me for a long time—I am ashamed to tell you, but I will, and he can do so no longer. I wanted to ask you for practical advice, but I did not make my meaning clear. For all that, you did advise me, and very well indeed. I wish to offer myself as domestic help to poor Mrs. Halliday. Do you think she would have me? I ask no wages—only food and lodging. I will work harder and better than any general servants—I will indeed. My health is not bad, and I am fairly strong. Don't—don't throw scorn on this! Will you recommend me to Mrs. Halliday—or ask Mrs. Hunt to do so? I beg that you will. Please write to me at once, and say yes. I shall be ever grateful to you.
"Very sincerely yours,
"Rosamund Jewell."
This she posted as early as possible. The agonies she endured in waiting for a reply served to make her heedless of boardinghouse spite, and by the last post that same evening came Geoffrey's letter. He wrote that her suggestion was startling. "Your motive seems to me very praiseworthy, but whether the thing would be possible is another question. I dare not take upon myself the responsibility of counselling you to such a step. Pray, take time, and think. I am most grieved to hear of your difficulties, but is there not some better way out of them?"
Yes,
