She perceived meanwhile the inevitable crisis slowly approaching, when she would be compelled to invite Mrs.
Cole's support.

That would mean her dismissal and a hopeless future.
There was no one to whom she might turn.

She had not a relation, not a friend--too late to make friends now.
She could see nothing in front of her at all.
The crisis did come, but not as she expected it.
There arrived a morning when the dark mist outside and badly made porridge inside tempted the children to their very worst.

Miss Jones had had a wakeful night struggling with neuralgia and her own hesitating spirit.

The children had lost even their customary half-humourous, half-contemptuous reserve.