She rose at her usual hour the next day, and was dressed before Euphra awoke.  It was a cold grey December morning, with the hoar-frost lying thick on the roofs of the houses.  Euphra opened her eyes while Margaret was busy lighting the fire.  Seeing that she was there, she closed them again, and fell once more fast asleep.  Before she woke again, Margaret had some tea ready for her; after taking which, she felt able to get up.  She rose looking more bright and hopeful than Margaret had seen her before.

But Margaret, who watched her intently through the day, saw a change come over her cheer.  Her face grew pale and troubled.  Now and then her eyes were fixed on vacancy; and again she would look at Margaret with a woebegone expression of countenance; but presently, as if recollecting herself, would smile and look cheerful for a moment.  Margaret saw that the conflict was coming on, if not already begun —­ that at least its shadow was upon her; and thinking that if she could have a talk with Hugh about what he had been doing, it would comfort her a little, and divert her thoughts from herself, even if no farther or more pleasantly than to the count.  She let Harry know Hugh’s address, as given in the letter to her father.  She was certain that, if Harry succeeded in finding him, nothing more was necessary to insure his being brought to Mrs. Elton’s.  As we have seen, Harry had traced him to Buccleuch Terrace.

Hugh re-entered the house in the same mind in which he had gone out; namely, that after Mrs. Appleditch’s behaviour to him before his pupils, he could not remain their tutor any longer, however great his need might be of the pittance he received for his services.

But although Mrs. Appleditch’s first feeling had been jealousy of Hugh’s acquaintance with “carriage-people,” the toadyism which is so essential an element of such jealousy, had by this time revived; and when Hugh was proceeding to finish the lesson he had begun, intending it to be his last, she said: 

“Why didn’t you ask your friend into the drawing-room, Mr. Sutherland?”

“Good gracious!  The drawing-room!” thought Hugh —­ but answered:  “He will fetch me when the lesson is over.”

“I am sure, sir, any friends of yours that like to call upon you here, will be very welcome.  It will be more agreeable to you to receive them here, of course; for your accommodation at poor Miss Talbot’s is hardly suitable for such visitors.”

“I am sorry to say, however,” answered Hugh, “that after the way you have spoken to me to-day, in the presence of my pupils, I cannot continue my relation to them any longer.”

“Ho! ho!” resnorted the lady, indignation and scorn mingling with mortification; “our grand visitors have set our backs up.  Very well, Mr. Sutherland, you will oblige me by leaving the house at once.  Don’t trouble yourself, pray, to finish the lesson.  I will pay you for it all the same.  Anything to get rid of a man who insults me before the very faces of my innocent lambs!  And please to remember,” she added, as she pulled out her purse, while Hugh was collecting some books he had lent the boys, “that when you were starving, my husband and I took you in and gave you employment out of charity —­ pure charity, Mr. Sutherland.  Here is your money.”