'If I wasn't a poor, helpless woman,' replied his wife, sinking
upon a chair and crying without raising her hands to her face,
'I'd go and live with her till she was married, and then make a
home for myself. But I haven't a penny, and I'm too old to earn
my own living; I should only be a burden to her.'
'That shall be no hindrance,' cried Yule. 'Go, by all means; you
shall have a sufficient allowance as long as I can continue to
work, and when I'm past that, your lot will be no harder than
mine. Your daughter had the chance of making provision for my old
age, at no expense to herself. But that was asking too much of
her. Go, by all means, and leave me to make what I can of the
rest of my life; perhaps I may save a few years still from the
curse brought upon me by my own folly.'
It was idle to address him. Mrs Yule went into the sitting-room,
and there sat weeping for an hour. Then she extinguished the
lights, and crept upstairs in silence.
Yule passed the night in the study. Towards morning he slept for
an hour or two, just long enough to let the fire go out and to
get thoroughly chilled.
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