your place is worth to breathe one syllable about them horses; you must
know nothing when you are asked. That's what Jim Story got sacked
for--saying in the 'Red Lion' that Valentine pulled up lame. We don't know
how it came to the Gaffer's ears. I believe that it was Mr. Leopold that
told; he finds out everything. But I was telling you how I learnt about
the race-horses. It was from Jim Story--Jim was my pal--Sarah is after
William, you know, the fellow who brought you into the kitchen last night.
Jim could never talk about anything but the 'osses. We'd go every night
and sit in the wood-shed, that's to say if it was wet; if it was fine we'd
walk in the drove-way. I'd have married Jim, I know I should, if he hadn't
been sent away. That's the worst of being a servant. They sent Jim away
just as if he was a dog. It was wrong of him to say the horse pulled up
lame; I admit that, but they needn't have sent him away as they did."

Esther was absorbed in the consideration of her own perilous position.
Would they send her away at the end of the week, or that very afternoon?
Would they give her a week's wages, or would they turn her out destitute
to find her way back to London as best she might? What should she do if
they turned her out-of-doors that very afternoon? Walk back to London? She
did not know if that was possible. She did not know how far she had
come--a long distance, no doubt. She had seen woods, hills, rivers, and
towns flying past. Never would she be able to find her way back through
that endless country; besides, she could not carry her box on her back....
What was she to do? Not a friend, not a penny in the world. Oh, why did
such misfortune fall on a poor little girl who had never harmed anyone in
the world! And if they did give her her fare back--what then?... Should
she go home?... To her mother--to her poor mother, who would burst into
tears, who would say, "Oh, my poor darling, I don't know what we shall do;
your father will never let you stay here."