"The matron of the prison was the next person who took an interest in
me. She reported favorably of my behavior to the authorities and when I
had served my time (as the phrase was among us) she gave me a letter
to the kind friend and guardian of my later years--to the lady who is
coming here to take me back with her to the Refuge.
"From this time the story of my life is little more than the story of a
woman's vain efforts to recover her lost place in the world.
"The matron, on receiving me into the Refuge, frankly acknowledged that
there were terrible obstacles in my way. But she saw that I was sincere,
and she felt a good woman's sympathy and compassion for me. On my side,
I did not shrink from beginning the slow and weary journey back again
to a reputable life from the humblest starting-point--from domestic
service. After first earning my new character in the Refuge, I
obtained a trial in a respectable house. I worked hard, and worked
uncomplainingly; but my mother's fatal legacy was against me from the
first. My personal appearance excited remark; my manners and habits were
not the manners and habits of the women among whom my lot was cast. I
tried one place after another--always with the same results. Suspicion
and jealousy I could endure; but I was defenseless when curiosity
assailed me in its turn. Sooner or later inquiry led to discovery.
Sometimes the servants threatened to give warning in a body--and I was
obliged to go. Sometimes, where there was a young man in the family,
scandal pointed at me and at him--and again I was obliged to go. If
you care to know it, Miss Roseberry can tell you the story of those sad
days. I confided it to her on the memorable night when we met in the
French cottage; I have no heart repeat it now. After a while I wearied
of the hopeless struggle. Despair laid its hold on me--I lost all hope
in the mercy of God. More than once I walked to one or other of the
bridges, and looked over the parapet at the river, and said to myself
'Other women have done it: why shouldn't I?' "You saved me at that time, Mr. Gray--as you have saved me since. I was
one of your congregation when you preached in the chapel of the Refuge
You reconciled others besides me to our hard pilgrimage. In their name
and in mine, sir, I thank you.
"I forget how long it was after the bright day when you comforted and
sustained us that the war broke out between France and Germany. But I
can never forget the evening when the matron sent for me into her own
room and said, 'My dear, your life here is a wasted life. If you have
courage enough left to try it, I can give you another chance.' "I passed through a month of probation in a London hospital. A week
after that I wore the red cross of the Geneva Convention--I was
appointed nurse in a French ambulance. When you first saw me, Mr.
Holmcroft, I still had my nurse's dress on, hidden from you and from
everybody under a gray cloak.