An occasional guinea from a magazine, a copy of that luckily anonymous tragedy now and then sold by him from house to house (he always disguised himself at such times), a little indexing to be done for publishers, and a little correcting of the press for printers--these formed the trifling and uncertain pittance upon which the pale family existed.

Poor Henry Clements, proud Henry Clements, you had, indeed, a dose of physic for your pride: bitter draughts, bitter draughts, day after day; but, for all that weak and wasted wife, dearly, devotedly beloved; for all the pining infant, with its angel face and beautiful smiles: for all the strong pleadings of affection, yea, and gnawing hunger too, the strong man's pride was stronger.

And had not God's good providence proved mercifully strongest of them all, that family of love would have starved outright for pride.
But Heaven's favour willed it otherwise.

By something little short of miracle, where food was scant and medicine scarce, the poor emaciated mother gradually gained strength--that long, low fever left her, health came again upon her cheek, her travail passed over prosperously, the baby too thrived, (oh, more than health to mothers!) and Maria Clements found herself one morning strong enough to execute a purpose she had long most anxiously designed.

"Henry was wrong to think so harshly of her father.