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 oh, night and day, to make things right, and there was no answer, no answer, nothing but silence and helplessness—what then, sir?"

Hepworth stared at her in amazement. She spoke with vehemence, her bosom rose and fell as if under the influence of strong emotion, her mouth quivered pathetically as she spoke of suffering and helplessness.

"Elisabeth?" he exclaimed, forgetting his usual reserve. "You've been through all that yourself! What was it?"

But Elisabeth suddenly regained her composure. She had laid down the grain-measure on a sack of corn close by, while she spoke—she now picked it up and made for the barn-door. "I beg your pardon, sir," she said, her tone implying the recognition of the position which she occupied in Hepworth's household. "I've been forgetting myself, I'm afraid, and talking too much. But you spoke kindly, and—and I've no friend to talk to now."

"You can look on me as a friend," said Hepworth. "And if you are in trouble—"