Mrs Tappitt’s ball was celebrated on a Tuesday, and on the preceding Monday Mrs Prime moved herself off, bag and baggage, to Miss Pucker’s lodgings. Miss Pucker had been elated with a dismal joy when the proposition was first made to her. “Oh, yes; it was very dreadful. She would do anything — of course she would give up the front bedroom upstairs to Mrs Prime, and get a stretcher for herself in the little room behind, which looked out on the tiles of Griggs’s sugar warehouse. She hadn’t thought such a thing would have been possible; she really had not. A ball! Mrs Prime couldn’t help coming away — of course not. And there would be plenty of room for all her boxes in the small room behind the shop. Mrs Ray’s daughter go to a ball!” And then some threatening words were said as to the destiny of wicked people, which shall not be repeated here.

That flitting had been a very dismal affair. An old man out of Baslehurst had come for Mrs Prime’s things with a donkey-cart, and the old man, assisted by the girl, had carried them out together. Rachel had remained secluded in her mother’s room. The two sisters had met at the same table at breakfast, but had not spoken over their tea and bread and butter. As Rachel was taking the cloth away Mrs Prime had asked her solemnly whether she still persisted in bringing perdition upon herself and her mother. “You have no right to ask me such a question,” Rachel had answered, and taking herself upstairs had secluded herself till the old man with the donkey, followed by Mrs Prime, had taken himself away from Bragg’s End. Mrs Ray, as her eldest daughter was leaving her, stood at the door of her house with her handkerchief to her eyes. “It makes me very unhappy, Dorothy; so it does.” “And it makes me very unhappy, too, mother. Perhaps my sorrow in the matter is deeper than yours. But I must do my duty.” Then the two widows kissed each other with a cold unloving kiss, and Mrs Prime had taken her departure from Bragg’s End Cottage. “It will make a great difference in the housekeeping,” Mrs Ray said to Rachel, and then she went to work at her little accounts.

It was Dorcas-day at Miss Pucker’s, and as the work of the meeting began soon after Mrs Prime had unpacked her boxes in the front bedroom and had made her little domestic arrangements with her friend, that first day passed by without much tedium. Mrs Prime was used to Miss Pucker, and was not therefore grievously troubled by the ways and habits of that lady much as they were unlike those to which she had been accustomed at Bragg’s End; but on the next morning, as she was sitting with her companion after breakfast, an idea did come into her head that Miss Pucker would not be a pleasant companion for life. She would talk incessantly of the wickednesses of the cottage, and ask repeated questions about Rachel and the young man. Mrs Prime was undoubtedly very angry with her mother, and much shocked at her sister, but she did not relish the outspoken sympathy of her confidential friend. “He’ll never marry her, you know. He don’t think of such a thing,” said Miss Pucker over and over again. Mrs Prime did not find this pleasant when spoken of her sister. “And the young men, I’m told, goes on anyhow, as they pleases at them dances,” said Miss Pucker, who in the warmth of her intimacy forgot some of those little restrictions in speech with which she had burdened herself when first striving to acquire the friendship of Mrs Prime. Before dinner was over Mrs Prime had made up her mind that she must soon move her staff again, and establish herself somewhere in solitude.

After tea she took herself out for a walk, having managed to decline Miss Pucker’s attendance, and as she walked she thought of Mr Prong. Would it not be well for her to go to him and ask his further advice? He would tell her in what way she had better live. He would tell her also whether it was impossible that she should ever return to the cottage, for already her heart was becoming somewhat more soft than was its wont. And as she walked she met Mr Prong himself, intent on his pastoral business. “I was thinking of coming to you tomorrow,” she said, after their first salutation was over.

“Do,” said he; “do; come early — before the toil of the day’s work commences. I also am specially anxious to see you. Will nine be too early — or, if you have not concluded your morning meal by that time, half past nine.

Mrs Prime assured him that her morning meal was always concluded before nine o’clock, and promised to be with him by that hour. Then as she slowly paced up the High Street to the Cawston Bridge and back again, she wondered within herself as to the matter on which Mr Prong could specially want to see her. He might probably desire to claim her services for some woman’s work in his sheepfold. He should have them willingly, for she had begun to feel that she would sooner co-operate with Mr Prong than with Miss Pucker. As she returned down the High Street, and came near to her own door, she saw the cause of all her family troubles standing at the entrance to Griggs’s wine-store. He was talking to the shopman within, and as she passed she frowned grimly beneath her widow’s bonnet. “Send them to the brewery at once,” said Luke Rowan to the man. “They are wanted this evening.”

“I understand,” said the man.

“And tell your fellow to take them round to the back door.”

“All right,” said the man, winking with one eye. He understood very well that young Rowan was ordering the champagne for Mrs Tappitt’s supper, and that it was thought desirable that Mr Tappitt shouldn’t see the bottles going into the house.

Miss Pucker possessed at any rate the virtue of being early, so that Mrs Prime had no difficulty in concluding her “morning meal”, and being at Mr Prong’s house punctually at nine o’clock. Mr Prong, it seemed, had not been quite so steadfast to his purpose, for his teapot was still upon the table, together with the debris of a large dish of shrimps, the eating of small shellfish being an innocent enjoyment to which he was much addicted.

“Dear me; so it is; just nine. We’ll have these things away in a minute. Mrs Mudge! Mrs Mudge!.” Whereupon Mrs Mudge came forth, and between the three the table was soon cleared. “I wish you hadn’t caught me so late,” said Mr Prong; “it looks as though I hadn’t been thinking of you.” Then he picked up the stray shell of a shrimp, and in order that he might get rid of it, put it into his mouth. Mrs Prime said she hoped she didn’t trouble him, and that of course she didn’t expect him to be thinking about her particularly. Then Mr Prong looked at her in a way that was very particular out of the corner of his eyes, and assured her that he had been thinking of her all night. After that Mrs Prime sat down on a horsehair-seated chair, and Mr Prong sat on another opposite to her, leaning back, with his eyes nearly closed, and his hands folded upon his lap.

“I don’t think Miss Pucker’s will quite do for me,” said Mrs Prime, beginning her story first.

“I never thought it would, my friend,” said Mr Prong, with his eyes still nearly closed.

“She’s a very good woman — an excellent woman, and her heart is full of love and charity. But —”

“I quite understand it, my friend. She is not in all things the companion you desire.”

“I am not quite sure that I shall want any companion.”

“Ah!” sighed Mr Prong, shaking his head, but still keeping his eyes closed.

“I think I would rather be alone, if I do not return to them at the cottage. I would fain return if only they —”

“If only they would return too. Yes! That would be a glorious end to the struggle you have made, if you can bring them back with you from following after the Evil One! But you cannot return to them now, if you are to countenance by your presence dancings, and love-makings in the open air,’— why worse in the open air than in a close little parlour in a back street, Mr Prong did not say —“and loud revellings, and the absence of all good works, and rebellion against the spirit.” Mr Prong was becoming energetic in his language, and at one time had raised himself in his chair, and opened his eyes. But he closed them at once, and again fell back. “No, my friend,” said he, “no. It must not be so. They must be rescued from the burning; but not so — not so.” After that for a minute or two they both sat still in silence.

“I think I shall get two small rooms for myself in one of the quiet streets, near the new church,” said she.

“Ah, yes, perhaps so — for a time.”

“Till I may be able to go back to mother. It’s a sad thing families being divided, Mr Prong.”

“Yes, it is sad — unless it tends to the doing of the Lord’s work.”

“But I hope — I do hope, that all this may be changed. Rachel, I know, is obstinate, but mother means well, Mr Prong. She means to do her duty, if only she had good teaching near her.”

“I hope she may, I hope she may. I trust that they may both be brought to see the true light. We will wrestle for them — you and me. We will wrestle for them — together. Mrs Prime, my friend, if you are prepared to hear me with attention, I have a proposition to make which I think you will acknowledge to be one of importance.” Then suddenly he sat bolt upright, opened his eyes wide, and dressed his mouth with all the solemn dignity of which he was the master. “Are you prepared to listen to me, Mrs Prime?”

Mrs Prime, who was somewhat astonished, said in a low voice that she was prepared to listen.

“Because I must beg you to hear me out. I shall fail altogether in reaching your intelligence — whatever effect I might possibly have upon your heart — unless you will hear me to the end.”

“I will hear you certainly, Mr Prong.”

“Yes, my friend, for it will be necessary. If I could convey to your mind all that is now passing through my own, without any spoken word, how glad should I be! The words of men, when taken at the best, how weak they are! They often tell a tale quite different from that which the creature means who uses them. Every minister has felt that in addressing his flock from the pulpit. I feel it myself sadly, but I never felt it so sadly as I do now.”

Mrs Prime did not quite understand him, but she assured him again that she would give his words her best attention, and that she would endeavour to gather from them no other meaning than that which seemed to be his. “Ah — seemed!” said he. “There is so much of seeming in this deceitful world. But you will believe this of me, that whatever I do, I do as tending to the strengthening of my hands in the ministry.” Mrs Prime said that she would believe so much; and then as she looked into her companion’s face, she became aware that there was something of weakness displayed in that assuring mouth. She did not argue about it within her own mind, but the fact had in some way become revealed to her.

“My friend,” said he — and as he spoke he drew his chair across the rug, so as to bring it very near to that on which Mrs Prime was sitting —“our destinies in this world, yours and mine, are in many things alike. We are both alone. We both of us have our hands full of work, and of work which in many respects is the same. We are devoted to the same cause: is it not so?” Mrs Prime, who had been told that she was to listen and not to speak, did not at first make any answer. But she was pressed by a repetition of the question. “Is it not so, Mrs Prime?”

“I can never make my work equal to that of a minister of the Gospel,” said she.

“But you can share the work of such a minister. You understand me now. And let me assure you of this; that in making this proposition to you, I am not self-seeking. It is not my own worldly comfort and happiness to which I am chiefly looking.”

“Ah,” said Mrs Prime, “I suppose not.” Perhaps there was in her voice the slightest touch of soreness.

“No — not chiefly to that. I want assistance, confidential intercourse, sympathy, a congenial mind, support when I am like to faint, counsel when I am pressing on, aid when the toil is too heavy for me, a kind word when the day’s work is over. And you — do you not desire the same? Are we not alike in that, and would it not be well that we should come together?” Mr Prong, as he spoke had put out his hand, and rested it on the table with the palm upwards, as though expecting that she would put hers within it; and he had tilted his chair so as to bring his body closer to hers, and had dropped from his face his assu............