But the L50 they had paid for the first, though it had seemed a sufficient sum to her when regarded from the stand-point of a woman surrounded by every luxury, and able to spend the whole of it on some trinket, looked small enough--too small--as the result of many weeks of labor, by which she and her children were to be fed.

If her work was worth no more than that, she must write at least six such books in the year, and every year! Felicita's heart sank at the thought! There seemed to be only one resource, since one of her publishers had offered an advance of L10 only, saying they were doing very well for her, and running a risk themselves.

She must take her manuscript and offer it as so much merchandise from house to house, selling it to the best bidder.

This was against all her instincts as an author, and if she had remained a wealthy woman she would not have borne it.

She was too true and original an artist not to feel how sacred a thing earnest and truthful work like hers was.