The tithes scarcely came in at all, and every day their poverty pinched them closer.

Had it not been for Beatrice's salary it was difficult to see how the family could have continued to exist.

She gave it almost all to her father now, only keeping back a very small sum for her necessary clothing and such sundries as stamps and writing paper.

Even then, Elizabeth grumbled bitterly at her extravagance in continuing to buy a daily paper, asking what business she had to spend sixpence a week on such a needless luxury.

But Beatrice would not make up her mind to dock the paper with its occasional mention of Geoffrey.
Again, Owen Davies was a perpetual anxiety to her.