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A City Schoolgirl and Her Friends

by May Baldwin · English · Gutenberg #30837 · 403,751 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: A City Schoolgirl and Her Friends

Author: May Baldwin

Illustrator: T. J. Overnell


        
Release date: January 2, 2010 [eBook #30837]
                Most recently updated: January 5, 2021

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30837

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CITY SCHOOLGIRL AND HER FRIENDS ***




Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net









                         A CITY SCHOOLGIRL
                          AND HER FRIENDS

                          BY MAY BALDWIN

Author of 'Corah's School Chums,' 'Two Schoolgirls of Florence,'
'Sarah's School Friend,' 'The Girls' Eton,' &c.

WITH SIX COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS
By T. J. Overnell

LONDON: 38 Soho Square, W.
W. & R. CHAMBERS, LIMITED
EDINBURGH: 339 High Street
1912

Edinburgh:
Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited.




[Illustration: She ran off, turning round to wave her hand to her
sister.]




CONTENTS.


       I. HARD FACTS

      II. THE NEW LAIRD OF LOMORE

     III. FRIENDS IN NEED

      IV. UPS AND DOWNS

       V. THE NEW LIFE

      VI. IN LONELY LODGINGS

     VII. KIND-HEARTED LONDONERS

    VIII. GOOD MANNERS

      IX. THE ENTERPRISE CLUB

       X. BLEAK HOUSE HOSTEL

      XI. 'THE RANK IS BUT THE GUINEA'S STAMP'

     XII. 'SAVE'

    XIII. YOUNG HOUSE-HUNTERS

     XIV. OFF TO A HOME AGAIN

      XV. EVA'S PRESENTIMENT

     XVI. VAVA'S BUSINESS LETTER

    XVII. A SUNDAY AT HEATHER ROAD

   XVIII. STELLA'S SURPRISING REQUEST

     XIX. THE JUNIOR PARTNER

      XX. VAVA ON FRIENDS

     XXI. EVA'S CONDUCT AND ITS SAD EFFECTS

    XXII. DANTE'S IDYLL

   XXIII. STELLA'S PRIDE

    XXIV. BADLY BEGUN AND MADLY ENDED

     XXV. UNDER A CLOUD

    XXVI. MORE CLOUDS

   XXVII. THE VALUE OF A GOOD CHARACTER

  XXVIII. VAVA GETS A SHOCK

    XXIX. THINGS STRAIGHTEN OUT




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


She ran off, turning round to wave her hand to her sister

'Vava,' said Stella, 'do not say such dreadful things'

'I'm quite well, thank you, Mr. Jones; but my algebra isn't.'

'My lamb, you should not answer your sister as you do'

'Where have you been, Vava Wharton?' demanded Miss Briggs

Stella goes to the prize distribution




A CITY SCHOOLGIRL AND HER FRIENDS.




CHAPTER I.

HARD FACTS.


'These are the facts, Miss Wharton; hard facts no doubt, but you wished
for the truth, and indeed I could not have hidden it from you even if I
had wished to do so.' So said a keen but kindly faced old gentleman, as
he sat in an office surrounded by despatch and deed boxes which
proclaimed his profession to be that of a lawyer.

The young lady to whom these remarks were addressed, and who was a
pretty girl of twenty-one, dressed in deep and obviously recent
mourning, now replied, with a sad smile, 'But I did not want you to hide
anything from me; I wanted to hear the truth, Mr. Stacey, and I thank
you very much for telling it to me. Then I may understand that we have
just fifty pounds a year to live upon between the two of us?'

'That is all, I am sorry to say; at least all that you can count upon
with any certainty for the present, for the shares, of which I have been
trying to tell you, at present bring in nothing, and may never do so. Of
course there is the furniture, which might fetch a hundred or two, for
there are two or three valuable pieces; and, besides that, your father
had some nice china and some fine old silver,' observed Mr. Stacey.

'Oh I could not sell that!' said the girl hastily, and her colour rose.

The old lawyer shook his head. 'It is not a case of _could_; it is a
case of _must_, my dear young lady,' he said not unkindly.

'But why? You say there are no debts to pay. Why, then, should we part
with all that is left to us of home?' argued the girl, the tears coming
into her eyes.

'Why? Because you must live, you and Vava, and I don't quite see how you
are to do that on fifty pounds a year--twenty-five pounds apiece--even
if we get your sister into a school where they would take her on
half-terms as a kind of pupil-teacher,' explained the lawyer patiently.

'Send Vava to a school as a pupil-teacher, to be looked down upon and
despised by the other girls who were richer than she, to waste half her
time in teaching, and let her go away from me? I could not do it!' cried
the girl impulsively. Then, as she saw the old man, who had been a
lifelong friend of her father's as well as his lawyer, shrug his
shoulders, as much as to say she was hopeless, she added more quietly,
'We have never been parted in our lives, Mr. Stacey, and we are sad
enough as it is,' and her lips quivered. 'She would be so lonely without
me, and I without her; and surely it is as cheap for two to live
together as one? Besides, I am going to earn money; I was my father's
secretary for three years, and he always said I was a very good one. I
can typewrite quite quickly; I have typewritten all his letters for him
for the last three years and copied all his manuscripts, and I scarcely
ever made a mistake.'

Her listener looked doubtful for a moment; but now that she had some
practical suggestion to make, the interview began to take a more
business-like appearance, and the old man was ready to listen to her.

'Yes,' he said, 'your father often told me that you were better than any
trained secretary he ever had, and I have no doubt your three years'
experience has been useful to you; but unfortunately there is no one
here who happens to want a secretary'----

Before he could get any further, Stella Wharton interrupted eagerly,
'But we do not think of staying here, and I have thought the whole
matter over. I knew I should have to earn my own living, and of course
the proper place to do that is in London.'

Mr. Stacey's look of consternation would have been amusing if he had not
been so serious. 'You and Vava go and live in London alone! The thing is
impossible!'

'Why impossible?' asked Stella quietly. 'Hundreds and thousands of girls
do it who are not even as old as I am.'

'Yes, but not girls like you,' said the lawyer. He stopped from sheer
inability to express what he meant and felt, which was that such an
exceptionally pretty girl as Stella Wharton ought not to start life
alone in London and be thrown on her own resources, even though she was
a thoroughly trustworthy girl and had a younger sister to live with her.
'You do not know anything about London, or even what a town is like; you
have lived in this little Scotch village (for it is not much more), as
far as I know, all your life, and the thing would never do. It's--it's
impossible!' he wound up; 'you could not possibly do it!'

'It is not a case of _could_; it is a case of _must_,' quoted Stella,
with the ghost of a smile, as she repeated the old man's words of a few
minutes ago.

'Yes, yes,' he said; 'you must live, I know that; but even supposing
that it would be possible for you to earn your living, and even to earn
it as a secretary, you would not be able to earn enough at first to keep
yourself, let alone keep your sister as well.'

'We could live on very little,' pleaded Stella; and here she brought out
from her purse a slip from a newspaper. 'I thought of answering this.'
So saying, she handed it to the old lawyer, who read an advertisement
for a secretary in a City office who could typewrite quickly and
correctly, and transcribe difficult manuscripts in French and English.

'You might be able to do this,' said the lawyer, 'for, to be sure, you
are both excellent French scholars; but a City office'----He looked
most disapproving. 'Well,' he said, 'there is no harm in answering it;
or suppose you let me answer it for you?'

'I was going to ask you whether you would give me a testimonial; but if
you would write for me it would be very, very kind of you,' replied
Stella.

'Very well,' said Mr. Stacey with a sigh, 'I shall write to this man;
but no doubt he will have hundreds of other applications. The pay is
good, and girls who can typewrite are to be found by the thousand
nowadays.'

'Yes,' said Stella eagerly; 'but he says "an educated person," and I
read in the papers the other day that three-quarters of the girls who go
in for typewriting cannot even write their own language, so they
probably would not be able to write French.'

'But thirty-five shillings a week! How are you going to live upon
thirty-five shillings a week?' inquired the lawyer.

'It will be forty-five shillings a week,' corrected Stella.

'Well, forty-five shillings a week between two of you; that is not a
hundred and fifty pounds a year. It would take that for you alone to
live in London.'

'I have calculated it all out, Mr. Stacey; and if you would not mind
looking at this sheet of paper I think you will see that we could do
it;' and Stella handed the lawyer a second piece of paper, upon which,
in a very neat and legible hand, the girl had written out her idea of
the probable cost of living for two people in London in lodgings.

'Rent ten pounds a year!' ejaculated the lawyer, reading the first item
on the list in a tone of mingled surprise and amusement. 'That shows how
much you know of London and its prices. Where do you suppose you would
get lodgings for two people at eight shillings per week? Why, a couple
of rooms would cost a guinea at least.'

Stella Wharton's expressive face fell as she said, 'I didn't know that.
The Misses Burns have a very nice little house here for twenty pounds a
year, and I thought lodgings could not possibly be as much, for we would
be content with two rooms at first.'

The lawyer read the items through with as grave an air and as
attentively as if he were reading an important document dealing with
thousands of pounds; and when he had finished he handed it back to her,
saying, 'I see, you have thought the matter out carefully, and, at all
events, there is no need to settle anything just yet, for you have
another month before everything can be settled up here. I shall write
to-night in answer to this advertisement.' And then shaking hands very
kindly with the girl, the lawyer showed her out.

Stella made her way back to the old Manor House, in which she had lived
with her father, mother (who had died some years ago), and her younger
sister Vava, ever since she was born, and where a week ago her father
had suddenly died, leaving his two daughters, as will have been seen,
very inadequately provided for. At the gate, or, more correctly
speaking, upon the gate, was Vava, who swung lightly over and into the
road to meet her sister.

'Well,' she said, 'what had Mr. Stacey to say?'

'A great deal,' said Stella gravely, as Vava took her arm and hung on to
her elder sister.

There were seven years between the two girls, the gap between having
been filled by three brothers, who had all died.

'Stella,' said Vava in a coaxing tone, as they turned in at the gate and
walked up the long drive, 'you need not be afraid of telling me about
it, because I know it all--everything.'

'What do you know?' inquired Stella, smiling in spite of her sadness.

'I know everything that Mr. Stacey said to you,' announced the younger
girl confidently.

'How can you possibly know that, Vava, seeing that I have not told you a
single word and that you were not at the interview?' Stella was always
very matter-of-fact, and Vava would say that she was slow.

'I knew what he was going to say before he ever opened his mouth. He was
going to tell you that we had lost all our money, and that this Manor
House is not ours any longer, that I must go to a cheap school, and that
you must go and be a governess, or something horrid like that,'
announced Vava.

'Vava, who told you?' cried Stella, surprised out of her caution, for
she had not meant to tell her younger sister the real facts of the case.

'Mrs. Stacey has been here, and she told me that there were some other
people coming to the Manor House. When I said we didn't want them, she
said the Manor House was not ours, and that we should not be able to
keep them out. When I asked her why, she said because we had no money.'

'Mrs. Stacey was quite wrong, and she had no business to speak to you
like that. I am sure Mr. Stacey would be very angry if he knew,' said
Stella, who looked rather angry herself. 'Besides which,' she added in a
calmer tone, 'we have not lost all our money; we have more than a
thousand pounds. And you were not quite right about Mr. Stacey either,
for he did not suggest that I should go out as a governess, and he is at
this minute answering an advertisement for a secretaryship for me.'

Vava was silent for a minute; then she said in a queer little voice,
very unlike her usual cheerful one, 'But he did say I was to go to a
school, didn't he?'

'Would you dislike that very much?' said Stella, more to try her sister
than because she had much doubt of the answer.

'I should hate it, Stella; I would rather scrub floors than be a
charity-girl with a red cloak and a round hat and short hair, with
perhaps people giving me pennies as I walked along the street.'

'There is no chance of your going to a charity school,' replied Stella,
'there will be enough money to send you to a proper boarding-school, if
that is necessary, for there are lots of schools where you do not pay
much more than fifty pounds a year; but I should like you to live with
me in London, and go to day-school there.'

'Oh Stella, how lovely! and we could go to the Zoo and Madame Tussaud's
and the Tower every day for a walk!' cried Vava with delight.

'I am afraid we could not go daily expeditions, Vava, because I should
be in an office all day and you will be at school; but we should have
Saturdays and Sundays together, and anything would be better than being
parted--wouldn't it?--even if we are poor.'

Vava did not answer, but the squeeze that she gave to Stella's arm was
quite answer enough. They had arrived at the door of the Manor House,
and the old housekeeper came forward to meet them.

'My dears, come into my little room and have some tea; you must be
perished with cold, and I have got some lovely scones that cook has made
on purpose for you. Come straight in, won't you, Miss Stella?'

'Thank you, nursie,' said Stella with a pleasant smile, as she followed
the housekeeper to her room; while Vava danced along in front of the old
woman, calling her all sorts of affectionate names for her
thoughtfulness in getting hot scones for them on this cold day.

It was not a usual thing for the girls to have tea with the housekeeper,
though they did sometimes do it. But Stella, though surprised at the way
the housekeeper asked them, thought it was to save them from having a
lonely tea in the dining-room without their father; and to the
housekeeper's relief she went straight to the latter's room, and partook
very cheerfully of the homely meal set before them. Twice during the
meal Stella thought that she heard voices in the passage which she did
not recognise as belonging to the servants, who, indeed, were not in the
habit of speaking in such loud tones about the house; but she paid no
attention to it.

The housekeeper, who had formerly been the girls' nurse, and was still
called 'nursie' by them, talked more than usual.

At last Vava observed, 'Nursie, I believe you are feverish.'

'Miss Vava!' exclaimed the old woman, 'what can you be thinking about?
What makes you think I am feverish? I am not a bit hot, unless this big
fire is making my face a bit red.'

'I am not talking about your face; it is your voice that is feverish,
and your eyes are glittering dreadfully,' said Vava.

'Vava,' said Stella, 'do not say such dreadful things.' She also looked
at the housekeeper, who did look nervous, if not feverish, as Vava had
suggested, and whose face certainly got very flushed as a knock came to
the door.

The butler, throwing it open, said to a gentleman and a lady who
accompanied him, 'This is the housekeeper's room, sir, and this'----Here
he caught sight of Stella and Vava, and with a muttered, 'I beg your
pardon, young ladies, I am sure,' he shut the door, and his footsteps
were heard hurrying down the passage.




CHAPTER II.

THE NEW LAIRD OF LOMORE.


The three occupants of the housekeeper's room took the unexpected
visitors in very different and characteristic ways. The housekeeper
became what Vava called more 'feverish' than ever; Stella stared in
grave surprise at this liberty on the part of the butler; while Vava
grew red with anger, and, guessing at once what it meant, cried
indignantly, 'How dare they come walking over our house before we are
out of it? Stella, why don't you go and tell David he ought to be
ashamed of himself letting them in? What is he thinking of to take such
a liberty?'

Stella turned her eyes, which justified her name, and looked at her
excited younger sister. She had not understood the meaning of the
intrusion until her quicker-witted sister told her, and she was not too
pleased herself at old David's behaviour, which even she, quiet and
attached to the old servant as she was, felt was taking too much upon
himself.

But, before she could speak, the old housekeeper broke in, rather
nervously, 'Miss Stella, dearie, you must not be angry with David; it's
my fault as well as his; we only wanted to save you both worry and
annoyance; and so it would, for you would never have known aught about
it but for David bringing them in here. He must be daft, after my
telling him he was to be sure and keep them out of your sight.'

'But I don't understand. I suppose these are the people who want to take
the house, and, if so, of course they wish to see it? Still, I think
they should have written just to ask my leave; and, at any rate, David
should have done so before he showed them over our house,' Stella
answered with dignity.

'That's just it; you don't understand, my bairn; and I don't rightly
understand it myself. It's their house--something about a mortgage--now
the poor Laird's gone, and they only waited until he was under the
ground to come tearing up from London in their motor to look at their
property, and it was more than David could do to put them off, and so,
sooner than have you troubled by their impudence'----said the
housekeeper.

'It is not very considerate, perhaps, but they have a right to ask to
see their own house without being called impudent; and though you mean
it kindly, nursie, you and David, I think I should know what is going on
in this house,' interrupted Stella.

'We'd just better get out of it as soon as we can. Mrs. Stacey came to
ask us to go and stay with them; she told me to give you the invitation.
But I'd rather go to the manse; Mrs. Monro would be sure to take us!'
cried Vava.

However, before Vava had uttered the last word, another knock came at
the door, and in answer to Stella's 'Come in!' David M'Taggart entered,
looking rather shamefaced. In broad Scotch, which it will perhaps be
best to spare English readers, he said, 'I'm sorry to trouble you, Miss
Stella, but the leddy will not take no for an answer; she wants to see
you.'

Stella unconsciously put on her most dignified air, and said, 'I do not
understand why she should wish to see me. It is the house they have
bought, not us; and if she wishes to know when it will be at her
disposal, you may tell her we will be out of it'--she hesitated a
moment, and her voice trembled as she added, 'as soon as we can move the
furniture; in a week, if possible.'

Still David lingered. 'It's just that--the furniture, I mean--that
she'll be after, I'm thinking. I know it's hard on you, missie. But you
must just be brave and the Laird's daughter; and, if you could make up
your mind to it, just see the leddy and her husband; they're no' bad,
though they're no' the quality.'

David M'Taggart had nursed Stella in his arms as a baby, and had been
the old Laird's right hand. In fact, when Mr. Wharton was deep in his
literary labours, David had kept things about the place straighter than
they would otherwise have been; and if his education had been better,
and he had been allowed, he would probably have managed the money
matters of his late master, and prevented the Laird allowing them to get
into the disastrous state they were found to be in after his death, of
which state the late Laird was, happily for him, though unfortunately
for his daughters, quite ignorant.

Stella listened to David's advice, and replied, 'Very well, David, I
will see this lady. What is her name?'

'It's a fine name--Mrs. Montague Jones she calls herself; but it's with
him I'd do business, if I may be so bold as to say so, for he's a fair
man, and not so keen on a bargain as she.'

To this piece of advice the girl made no reply, but followed the old
butler out of the room and down the wide staircase to the drawing-room.
At the door she paused involuntarily, as David threw it open for her and
announced, 'This is Miss Wharton, mem.'

The short, thick-set business man, who was standing looking out of one
of the windows, turned sharply round at the words; and, as he told his
wife afterwards, was 'fairly taken aback to see that beautiful young
lady standing there like a princess in the doorway and looking down upon
us.'

And his wife--a handsome woman herself, who was sitting at a table
examining some old silver, of which the Laird had a fine
collection--though she answered him rather sharply to the effect that
the 'looking down' ought to be on their side rather than the Whartons',
was conscious somehow of a feeling of inferiority. However, she rose,
and, coming forward, said civilly and kindly enough, 'I must apologise,
Miss Wharton, for this intrusion, and it's only because I think we may
be able to be of use to you'----Here Mrs. Montague Jones stopped
abruptly, for Stella's pride had risen, and she stiffened visibly.

'My wife doesn't mean that, Miss Wharton. What we wished to ask was a
favour to us, for which we would willingly make a return. I'm a business
man, and you are a young lady who knows nothing about business,' Mr.
Montague Jones now put in.

But Stella did not look any better pleased as she answered civilly but
distantly, 'In that case would it not be better to address yourself to
our lawyer, who is a man of business?' Stella had been her father's
secretary for so long that she spoke in a slightly stilted English with
a Scotch accent.

'Quite right, and so we did, but he told us he could do nothing without
you'--Mr. Stacey had said that he could do nothing _with_ her on this
particular matter--'and we have taken the liberty of coming straight to
the fountain-head, so to speak. It's about this furniture now.'

But Stella interrupted hastily, 'I am afraid you have given yourself
unnecessary trouble'--and her looks said 'and me too'--'for I have no
intention of parting with it.'

A gleam came into the man's eye, whether of anger at her haughtiness or
admiration at the spirit which could refuse a possibly advantageous
business offer was not clear, with poverty staring her in the face; but
he laid a hand on his wife's arm to prevent her speaking, and continued
quietly, and in a kind and friendly tone, 'No one has asked you to do
that, Miss Wharton. I feel with you that however valuable furniture or
silver or that kind of thing may be, it is doubly valuable to the owner,
especially when, as in your case, it has been in the family for a long
time, and I should be the last to counsel you to part with it.'

Miss Wharton looked surprised, and so did Mrs. Jones, who stared at her
husband in amazement.

'In that case, I fail to see'----began the girl, and then hesitated.

'You fail to see what proposal I have to make about the furniture? If
you'll have a little patience I'll tell you. I've just seen your lawyer,
and a very nice man he is, and has your interests at heart, for which
you may be thankful, as they are not all so. I hear you are thinking of
going to London. Now, you can't take all this fine furniture with you;
it would get knocked to pieces on the way there, besides costing no end
of money, and you'd want a mansion to put it in when you got there,
which you won't have just yet, though you will have again one day, I
hope. Now what, may I ask, do you mean to do with it?'

'I don't know. I shall warehouse it here, I suppose,' said Stella, who
had no clear ideas on the subject.

'That's just what I was going to suggest. Why not leave it all here,
with the exception of any little things or specially valuable belongings
that you 'd like to put away, and let us pay a fair sum for the use of
them. They'll not spoil, for they are old and well-made, and there'll
only be the wife and me and Jamie, that's our son and heir--ahem! a
quiet, well-behaved young fellow--and none of us will knock it about;
besides, your man M'Taggart has agreed--condescended I might say--to
stay on with us for the present, and he'll be free to write and tell you
if it's being badly used; and we'll put a clause in the agreement that
if M'Taggart thinks it is in bad hands you have the right to order its
removal in twenty-four hours,' announced Mr. Jones.

'Really, Monty'----cried his wife; but her husband pressed her arm, and
patiently waited for Stella's reply.

The girl puckered her brows; it would be a way out of the difficulty.
But she did not feel equal to settling the matter herself, and answered
doubtfully, 'If Mr. Stacey approves, I should have no objection--that is
to say, I would agree; but I should like some of my mother's things put
away.'

'Oh of course, we quite understand that, Miss Wharton, and we will have
everything put down in black and white by your lawyer,' said Mr.
Montague Jones.

Stella, who had taken the seat offered her by her undesired visitor, now
rose to put an end to the interview; and then a sudden thought struck
her. These people had motored from the south, and perhaps had come far
that day--at any rate from the nearest town, a good many miles off--and
she had not even offered them a cup of tea, and her Scotch hospitality
forbade her to let them depart without doing so much. She accordingly
offered it, and Mrs. Jones accepted the offer so gladly that her young
hostess felt ashamed of herself; and, ringing the bell, she ordered in
tea.

The interval of waiting might have been rather awkward; but not long
after David had answered the summons the door opened, and in walked
Vava.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones had an idea that Scotch girls in general were plain
and hard-featured, hence their surprise at Stella's appearance; and
Vava, though she was at an awkward age, and had not Stella's beauty, was
a bright, fresh-looking girl, with merry, laughing eyes which no trouble
could dim for long, and she too fitted in with her surroundings.

'How do you do? David will bring the tea in a minute, and there are
still some scones left,' she announced, without waiting to be
introduced.

Mr. Jones shook her hand heartily. 'That's good hearing; we lunched
early, and I've been with lawyers ever since, and worried with business,
about which you luckily know nothing; and scones--which we poor ignorant
Londoners call "scoones"--sounds very inviting.'

'So they are, deliciously inviting; but as for your business, I just do
know something about it,' Vava observed.

'Vava!' cried Stella horrified.

Mr. Jones laughed, not in the least embarrassed, though he had not meant
to be taken up so. 'Ah well, business is business and pleasure is
pleasure, and I don't believe in mixing them, though some people do.
Business is over for this afternoon, and now I am having the pleasure of
making your acquaintance.'

'Do you go to school, Miss Wharton?' inquired his wife, putting the
first question ladies seem invariably to put to girls in their teens.

'No, but I am going to a day-school when we get to London. Do you know
any nice ones there, not too dear?' inquired Vava.

Stella coloured hotly, and looked despairingly at Vava, who was
evidently in a mood to say dreadful things, as Stella considered them.

But Mr. Jones stepped into the breach. 'If you take my advice you'll go
to my school; it's one of the best in London.'

'Do you keep a school? I didn't know rich people did that,' said Vava.

'I don't keep it exactly, but I am chairman of the governors, and on
speech-days I go there, dressed in my chain and brass breastplate and
things, and listen to how all the girls have been getting on, and I
frown at the idle ones, and praise the good ones, and if you were to
come there I should praise and clap you. It's a first-class school
though the fees are very low,' he wound up, as if this were an important
detail.

'Nothing is decided yet,' said Stella, rather shortly, and frowning at
the too candid Vava.

'No, and of course there is no hurry; and, if you will excuse my talking
of business, I should like just to say that if you wished to stay here a
month or more we should be delighted. As for that school, it is a famous
City foundation, and I will send you the prospectus when I return home,
if you will allow me,' said Mrs. Jones, whom tea and scones had made
quite friendly.

'A City school!' said Vava. 'Is that a charity school?'

'Oh dear no!' cried Mrs. Jones hastily. 'My niece used to go there.'

Stella gave a ghost of a smile, but said nothing; and soon her visitors
left, with profuse thanks and promises to see the lawyer and let him
arrange matters.

It was consequently with lightened hearts that the two orphans stood
looking after their visitors in the darkening day.




CHAPTER III.

FRIENDS IN NEED.


'They are not quite ladies and gentlemen--I mean, a lady and
gentleman--but they are rather kind, and I think they will take care of
our furniture, Stella; so I should let them have it till we are rich
again and can buy this place back from them,' said Vava, as she stood on
the steps watching the tail-light of the Montague Joneses'
well-appointed car disappear down the drive.

'How do you know anything about that?' inquired her sister in surprise;
for unless her sister had been listening at the door, a meanness of
which she knew her to be incapable, she could not imagine how she could
guess what the new owners of Lomore had been proposing.

'Ah, ha! a little bird told me. But I quite approve; it will save us the
trouble of moving it about, and you'll see we shall be back here again
before long; that's another thing a little bird told me,' cried Vava,
loosing her sister's arm to hop on one foot down the stone steps, and
then try to perform the same feat up them.

'Vava! do be sensible at your age, and tell me what you mean by your
nonsense about a little bird telling you a private conversation which no
one could honourably know anything about,' said her sister severely.

Vava was sobered for the minute; and, giving a last hop on to the top
step, she stood on her two feet before her sister and retorted, 'What do
you mean by your insinuations, pray? Do you imagine I have been
listening through the keyhole? because, if so, I decline to parley with
you further. And as for my age, why shouldn't I do gymnastics? When I go
to an English school I shall have to do far sillier things than that.
And, oh Stella! do you think I shall go to that City school? I don't
think I should like to be taught by Mr. Montague Jones, though he is a
kind old man.'

'Mr. Montague Jones does not teach there; he told you that, and I don't
know at all where you will go to school. Perhaps it will be a
boarding-school after all, for we cannot live in London unless I get
this post as secretary, or some other like it; and you would perhaps be
best away from me, for you do not obey me,' replied her elder sister.

'If you mean that you want to know how I knew about the Joneses and
their offering to take care of our furniture, David told me; and if you
want to know how he knew--which I can see you do, because you have
screwed your eyebrows into a question-mark--Mr. Jones told him himself,
when David said he knew we would never sell it--for it is half mine,
isn't it, although you are my guardian?--and it's to look after it and
the place for us till we get it back that David is staying with them,
though "they are not the quality," as he says.'

This explanation satisfied Miss Wharton, and she only said, in answer to
Vava's last remark, 'Yes, the furniture is half yours, of course, and I
should have told you about this offer, as I am legally responsible for
it and all your property. And talking of property, Vava, it is very hard
I know, but this place is no longer ours, nor can it ever be again, for
we have no rich relations to leave us enough money to buy it back; nor
shall we ever have enough ourselves even if the Joneses wanted to sell
it, which I don't fancy they will, for they have bought it for their son
and heir, as they called him to me.'

'How hateful! a Londoner Laird of Lomore! Oh but he sha'n't be that
long, for I am going to earn a fortune and turn him out!' cried Vava,
her eyes flashing.

Stella laughed at her younger sister's vehemence, and inquired, 'In what
way are you going to earn money, pray?'

'I'm going to invent something. I read the other day in that ladies'
magazine of a man who invented a very simple little thing to save
candles, and he made thousands and thousands of pounds by it; and I've
got an idea too--it's a thing to save matches,' announced Vava.

'Matches! Why should one save matches? They are cheap enough without
saving them,' exclaimed Stella.

'Not in every country. Don't you remember Mrs. M'Ewan saying that when
they were abroad last year they paid a penny a box, and for such bad
ones too? Well, my idea is to make them light at both ends; you always
throw away half the match, and now it will do for twice,' explained
Vava.

Stella did not laugh for fear of hurting Vava's feelings and arousing
her wrath, but only said, 'You do think of odd things, Vava; but I wish
you would not say all you think. I am often quite nervous of what you
may say or do next.'

'You needn't be nervous now, because I am going to be quite grown-up and
proper, and not give you any more trouble,' announced Vava, who meant
what she said, though she did not always act up to her excellent
resolutions, as will be seen.

In fact, only two days later she made her sister nervous, besides
annoying her; for, as the elder girl was walking towards the village to
Mr. Stacey's office, in answer to a message from him requesting her to
call, she saw her sister, whom she had missed for the last hour, sitting
beside Mr. Montague Jones in his motor, being whirled past her at a
terrible speed, or at least so it seemed to her. Whether Vava saw her or
not Stella could not be sure; but she took no notice of her, neither did
Mr. Jones, whom she supposed did not recognise her. Rather ruffled at
the occurrence, Miss Wharton continued her way to the lawyer's, her
pretty head held still more erect, and a slightly scornful smile on her
face at the way her sister's indignation against the London Laird had
evaporated.

'Well, Miss Wharton, my dear, I have good news for you--at least, I
suppose I must call it good news, though it means that we shall lose
you, for the people whose advertisement I answered have written offering
you the post of secretary to the junior partner of a very good firm in
the City of London--Baines, Jones & Co. Your hours will be ten till
four, short hours for London clerks--er, secretaries I mean; and your
work will be to translate French letters for him and write French
answers, which he will dictate in English. You see it is a position of
trust, because they don't know much French and have to trust to your
translating their letters faithfully, and that I was able to assure them
you would do. In fact, after what I said they were quite ready to take
you, and it is the best I can do for you--not what I should like for
your father's daughter, but it might be worse. You will have a nice
little room to yourself with your typewriter, and need have nothing to
do with any one, and I may tell you that if you give satisfaction your
salary will be raised.'

'Thank you very much, Mr. Stacey,' replied Stella briefly. She was
grateful, and the old man knew it; but the vision his words brought up
of her future life in a stuffy, dingy City office, sitting at a
typewriter writing dull business letters--a very different thing from
the literary work she had helped her father with--depressed her for a
moment. Then she roused herself, and went on to speak of the arrangement
which had been agreed upon between the lawyer and Mr. Montague Jones
about the furniture, and which only needed her signature to be settled.

'Ah, yes, they have been most generous,' began the lawyer; but he
hastened to correct himself when he saw Stella's face stiffen--'fair, I
should say, and anxious to meet your wishes. I think we are fortunate in
falling into their hands, and may safely trust them.' How fortunate, Mr.
Stacey did not dare to say.

'Yes, I think they will take care of our furniture, and they evidently
wish to be friendly, which is more than I do, though Vava seems to have
taken to them,' replied Stella.

'And they to her. Here is the prospectus of that school Mr. Montague
Jones is governor of. He is evidently a little afraid of you and your
stately airs'--here the lawyer's eyes twinkled--'not that he thinks the
less of you for them, quite the contrary. However, to resume, it seems
an excellent school; the teaching staff is first-rate, the building
palatial, and the fees most moderate--two guineas a term. Moreover, as
it is in the City, not far from your own office, you could go there and
back together, which would be a great thing,' explained the lawyer.

He was a busy man, for not only every one in the sleepy little town, but
all round, great and small, came to him for advice, and Stella, knowing
this, was grateful for his interest in her affairs; and on his advice
agreed, if it proved to come up to the prospectus, to send Vava to the
City school. This business being settled, she turned homeward with a
feeling that now she had no more to do with Lomore, and that the sooner
they left it and began their new life in London the better. In fact,
this was practically what Mr. Stacey said: Messrs Baines, Jones & Co.
would like her to begin at her earliest convenience, and the new term
began next Tuesday, and this was Wednesday.

Vava was on the gate when her sister arrived. 'Where have you been? I've
been such a lovely drive with the Montagues--well, never mind their
other name; it's horribly common anyway. I met them up the road, and
they asked if we would come for a run, and we came back to fetch you;
but you had gone to Mr. Stacey's, so I was sure you would not mind;
and--what do you think?--they are going to drive us up to London in
their car!' the girl cried, pouring out the words so fast that her
sister could hardly follow her.

'Drive us to London? Indeed, they are going to do no such thing! I do
not care to accept favours from strangers; and really, Vava, I don't
know what you mean by knowing my affairs before I know them myself. I
don't know when we are going to London yet. Perhaps not for a week or
two, and at any rate not with those people, who may be very kind, but
are not educated; he can't even speak the King's English. No, if we
can't make friends in our own class we will go without.'

Vava looked down at her sister, who stood with one hand on the gate,
looking so stiff and proud that her face, which was really a sweet one,
was almost forbidding. 'All right,' she said, swinging her feet to and
fro in a way that made Stella quite nervous--'all right, then; we'll go
in a stuffy railway-carriage, and have to sit up all night, and I shall
be sick, as I was when we went to Edinburgh; but you won't care as long
as you can stick your head up and look down on people who try to be
friendly and nice to you, just because he says "dy" instead of "day;"
and what does it matter? We pronounce some words quite wrong, according
to the English, and I dare say they'll laugh at us when we go south.
Mrs. M'Ewan said the waiter at the hotel couldn't understand her when
she asked for water.'

Mrs. M'Ewan was a neighbouring laird's wife, and spoke very broad
Scotch.

Stella made no answer to this tirade of her younger sister's, who swung
herself off the gate and walked back to the house with Stella in no
good-humour.

There they found a note from Mrs. Jones, which, to Stella's surprise,
was quite grammatically written, asking whether they would honour them
by occupying two seats in their car when they went back to town. 'My
husband is so taken by your sister, and hearing that the train made her
sick, he ventured to suggest your coming with us. He begs me to say that
he feels under such obligations to you for lending us your beautiful old
furniture and plate--which no money could repay or replace--that he
would be glad if you would accept this attention as a mark of our
gratitude.'

'That will fetch the proud hussy, if anything will. Poor girls, I am
very sorry for them, especially the elder, for she'll have a lot of
humble pie to eat before she's done,' Mr. Montague Jones had said to his
wife; but this remark, needless to say, she did not mention in the
letter. She only added that they were not particular which day they
returned to town, but would go any day that suited Miss Wharton.

Mr. Jones may not have been an educated man--in fact, he would have been
the first to acknowledge it; but he certainly was a tactful man, and
understood managing people, as indeed he well might, for he had managed
a large place of business for many years, and done so successfully, as
his wealth testified.

So, after reading the letter over slowly, Stella turned to her sister
with a half-ashamed smile and said, 'If you like we will go with the
Montague Joneses; but only on one condition, and that is that you
promise not to get too intimate, or to ask me to be friendly with them
in town. They may not want to know us, for we shall be very poor; but I
won't be patronised by any one, and I don't want them to call.'

Vava looked as if she were going to say something, but thought better of
it, and gave the desired promise.




CHAPTER IV.

UPS AND DOWNS.


There was nothing now to keep them at Lomore. Mr. Stacey's clerks had
made an inventory of the contents of the house; David M'Taggart and Mrs.
Morrison had packed their 'young leddies'' personal belongings, part in
boxes to be taken to London, and part locked away in a room in the old
home, of which David M'Taggart had the key, and into which, he solemnly
assured his late young mistresses, no one should enter but himself.

So all that remained for the two orphans to do was to say good-bye to
their friends, which they hurried over as much as possible, for partings
are painful in any case, and it was especially so in this one, and the
most painful was the parting from 'nursie,' as they called Mrs.
Morrison.

'And remember, my bairns, if you are ill or want me at any time, I'm
here and ready to come to you. I've a good bit laid by for a rainy day,
and I've no need to work any more, thank the Lord, and don't mean to
work for any but a Wharton, if he was as rich as Dives; so if ever you
should want a maid who needs no wages I'll be waiting for the call, and
will be with you as fast as the train will take me, for you're like my
own bairns,' said the loyal old servant, who had spent forty of her
fifty-five years of life in the service of the Laird of Lomore, as had
her father and grandfather before her, and was still as hale and hearty
as a woman of thirty.

The two girls clung to her, but could not say a word, and Mr. Montague
Jones, who had brought the car to the house to fetch them, turned his
head away and cleared his throat suspiciously, feeling, as he told his
wife afterwards, like a veritable robber who had stolen their home, and
turned these two helpless and innocent girls adrift in the wide world,
of which they knew nothing.

Mrs. Montague Jones did her best to be pleasant to her companion, who
was Stella, for Vava was sitting beside Mr. Jones and the chauffeur; but
though the girl was perfectly civil, and expressed her gratitude for
their kindness, Stella was so reserved and unresponsive that it is to be
feared that Mrs. Jones did not enjoy her return trip as much as she had
done the one northward to take possession of the coveted property, which
foolish speculations had caused the late Laird to mortgage up to its
full value.

Poor proud Stella, in her innocence it had not occurred to her that she
would be entertained at the best hotels on the way south; nor did she
know that the journey was being made very leisurely, and, to tell the
truth, by rather indirect routes, so that their thoughts might be
distracted, and that they might be shown pretty scenery and interesting
cathedrals and old towns. But there was no getting out of it now.

'Though if I had had any idea of the obligation we were putting
ourselves under I would never have come, not even to prevent your being
train-sick, Vava,' she declared to her sister.

'Then it's a very good thing you did not know; we're having a glorious
time, and what is a few pounds to them? Nothing, as Mr. Montague Jones
says; he is enjoying these sights twice as much for seeing us enjoy
them; though, for that matter, you don't look much as if you were
enjoying yourself, except when we are going over cathedrals, or looking
at some extra-special view, and then, though I say it as shouldn't, your
face is worth looking at,' affirmed Vava.

Stella laughed at the candid flattery, and took a hint from the equally
candid criticism, and tried to be more agreeable to her kind hostess,
with the result that Mrs. Montague Jones was emboldened to ask her if
she would not stay a few days with them in Belgrave Square until they
had found rooms.

But Stella withdrew into her shell at once. 'Oh no, thank you; you are
very kind, but we have the address of some lodgings which Mrs. Monro,
our minister's wife, knows, and they are expecting us.'

They were now at their last stage, and Stella handed Mrs. Monro's card
to Mr. Jones, and on it was written the address. He took it and read it,
and said, 'Vincent Street, Westminster; that's not far from us. We shall
hope to see you sometimes; it's a poky little street, and you'll be glad
to get out of it, though even Belgrave Square will seem sooty and
confined after Lomore.'

It was not as tactful a speech as it might have been, and was received
in such freezing silence by Stella that his wife did not dare to second
the invitation, and the two girls were deposited at their new abode
without any promise of meeting again, as far as Stella was concerned. As
for Vava, she shook hands with Mr. Jones very warmly, and kissed Mrs.
Jones; but neither did she say anything but good-bye, which, truth to
say, she said in such a cheerful tone as to surprise her sister.

But the cheeriness soon subsided at sight of their rooms, for which the
landlady, impressed by the grandeur of their arrival, hastened to
apologise. 'And where all that luggage that arrived yesterday is to go I
don't know; I've no place for it here, miss; so I just told the
railway-man to keep all but these two port-manteaus at their
storerooms,' she added.

'Perhaps that was best,' said Stella quietly. And then, the woman having
taken her departure, she sat down on the bed, a large double one, which
filled up half the dingy room, and looked round the apartment and into
the tiny sitting-room with distaste.

'It's horrid, and--one thing's certain, I won't have that man staring at
me!' cried Vava impulsively, jumping up, and mounting on a chair in
order to take down a large portrait of a stolid-faced policeman.

'Vava, come down and leave it alone! What can you be thinking of? That
is the landlady's husband, no doubt. Mrs. Monro said he was a policeman,
and so we should be safe with him. You will hurt her feelings!' cried
Stella.

'Then let her have him in her own bedroom. How can I sleep with him
looking as if he were going to take me to prison all the time?' said
Vava. However, she did not take 'him' down, but came down herself; and
as the Joneses had thoughtfully had a substantial tea before they
deposited their passengers, the girls decided that they would want
nothing that night but a glass of milk, and went out in the dusk to see
what they could of London, and get out of their close and confined
lodgings.

'It went to my heart, Monty, to leave those two poor girls in that
dreadful place. This world's very unfair somehow,' said Mrs. Jones, as
she and her husband entered their own handsome house.

'And yet you were not too pleased at my offer about the furniture, and
wanted to make me force them to sell it outright,' her husband reminded
her.

'Oh well, business is business; but now that I know those two Misses
Wharton I feel glad the furniture is still theirs, though what good
it'll do them now or ever--unless some duke comes along and marries Miss
Stella for her pretty face--I don't know.'

'The money I pay for hire will do them good'--Mr. Jones was paying fifty
pounds a year--'and it needn't be a duke. I'd not mind her for a
daughter myself.'

'Pray don't put such ideas into Jamie's head; not that she would not be
a good wife, for she's a good girl, but she'd never look at a Jones. And
if that's your plan, I'm sorry she ever came to town, for it will only
upset Jamie. I do hope he won't fall in love with her!' cried Jamie's
mother in alarm.

'Who spoke of Jamie? The girl's up here to earn her living, and has no
idea of love-making, thank goodness! As for Jamie, he's all right, and
can look after himself at his age, I should hope. I only meant that I'd
like as ornamental a wife for him when he reigns up there as I've got to
face me,' said Mr. Montague Jones gallantly. Then in the bustle of
home-coming and the joy of meeting the aforementioned Jamie, the
Whartons were banished as subjects of conversation, although a little
later their name cropped up in connection with their property and other
matters.

The Whartons themselves never mentioned their late hosts. London in the
dusk, with its brilliant lights, its roar of traffic, and its hurrying
crowds, claimed their attention.

'Oh Stella, it's awful--just awful!' cried Vava, clinging to her
sister's arm in alarm.

'See, there is a park in front of us; let us go in there; it will be
quieter,' replied Stella, as she pressed Vava's arm and hurried her over
the crossing into Hyde Park, in which direction they had fortunately
strayed.

Vava drew a great breath of relief as they began to cross the park
diagonally. 'Thank goodness! I can breathe here, and needn't be looking
all the time to see where those horrid, screechy motors are coming to,
tearing along as they do,' she said, quite forgetful of the fact that
she herself had not many hours before been tearing along in one of these
same 'horrid motors.'

It was January, and the air was cold, but the Highland girls did not
mind that, and took such a long walk, turning and twisting in the park,
so as to avoid the streets, that they were tired out when they reached
their lodgings. They slept soundly, and the next morning awoke with more
courage to face their new life. The first thing was to visit the City
school, and this they did together.

'I have heard of you, Miss Wharton,' said Miss Upjohn, the
head-mistress, 'and I hope I shall be able to persuade you to entrust
your sister to us.' She then proceeded to give her visitor a detailed
account of the school, its staff, and its aims. 'Our term begins
to-morrow, and that,' she continued, pointing to a large card on the
table, 'is our motto for the week. We have a new one each week, and this
week, as it is the beginning of the new year, we have taken "Truth and
honour." The school motto is "Love as brethren," and I shall make a
little speech upon it to-morrow morning after prayers.'

Stella listened in her dignified, reserved way, and it was only when she
smiled that the head-mistress understood Mr. Montague Jones's
enthusiastic way of speaking of her.

Vava was more responsive. 'Oh Stella, this is a lovely school! Do let me
come here. And for our gymnastics we wear a red drill-dress--what fun!
And what nice big rooms! I can breathe here!' she cried.

Stella smiled again. 'I don't know what to say; it seems so funny to
take the first school one sees without looking about; but we have no
time to spare. The only thing I am afraid of is, if you will excuse my
saying so, the companions she will find here; it is not a very
aristocratic part of London, and I should not like Vava to mix with the
children I see in this street.'

Miss Upjohn smiled too. 'I understand your feelings; but I can assure
you that though there is a mixture here, as in all big schools--even the
best--our girls do not come from the streets; they come from very good
neighbourhoods. I do not think your sister will come to any harm by
mixing with them, and I will myself take special care of her and let her
sit at lunch with one of our teachers, who dine here in the middle of
the day.'

Miss Wharton did not know that she owed this concession to Mr. Jones's
representations; she did not even know that it was a concession, for she
had been used to a good deal of attention both from her position and her
beauty; but she knew that Miss Upjohn was being very kind and friendly,
and she felt sure her sister would be safe with such a high-principled
woman. So before they left the big, ugly red-brick building, which Mr.
Jones had truly called palatial, it was decided that Vava should go
there the next day and be duly enrolled as a day-scholar at the City
School for Girls.

'And now that all that is comfortably settled, let us go and see the
Tower; it is in the City, so it must be near,' observed Vava.

But she was mistaken; it was not near. However, as they were walking
along--for they were too unused to cities to think it necessary to go
everywhere in buses and trams--Stella gave a little exclamation of
surprise.

'What is it, Stella? What frightened you?' inquired Vava, looking up at
her sister.

'I am not frightened, only surprised. There is the office that I shall
go to every day, quite close to your school, so that I can see you to
your door before I go there. I am so glad,' explained Stella.

'So am I glad, Stella. Now I sha'n't feel lonely, for I don't mind
telling you that I felt just a wee bit frightened at the thought of
being away from you among strangers, and no one I knew anywhere near;
and here you will be quite near me, so that I can run in and see you
whenever I want!' exclaimed the girl.

'Oh but you must not do that; you must not run about the streets alone!
London is not Lomore, you know; besides, you will have no time to pay
visits in school-hours, nor shall I have time to receive them. You must
remember I am only a paid servant to these people,' said Stella, with
proud humility. She then continued, 'I cannot receive visitors as if it
were my own house, though, of course, if anything were really the matter
Miss Upjohn could send for me. It is nice for us both to know we are
only a few minutes' walk from each other.'

Not for many a day did Stella and Vava Wharton know to whose kind
interest they owed this fact, nor to whom they were indebted for many a
privilege, both in the former's office and the latter's school; though
it was to one and the same person. At any rate, this knowledge of their
nearness to each other made their first day in London a happier one than
it would otherwise have been.

The Tower proved as fascinating as it always does to girls who love
history when they see the fortress for the first time, and the sisters
spent a long time in it and its surroundings, and went back to Vincent
Street resigned to, if not content with, their lot, the worst part of
which was their lodgings. Stella felt that the house could never be in
the least a home to them, and was not situated in a nice part for them
to live in, though she did not see what she could do better, with their
limited means and knowledge of London.




CHAPTER V.

THE NEW LIFE.


'But, Stella, you have not to be at your office till ten o'clock! What
will you do with yourself for this half-hour?' asked Vava next morning
as her sister left her at the gates of the City School for Girls five
minutes before school opened, which was half-past nine.

The two sisters had walked together to the City along the Embankment. To
girls used to tramping miles over the moors, the walk was nothing,
though they found that the pavements tired their feet.

'I shall take a walk, or go into a shop and have a bun,' replied Stella,
for on second thoughts she shunned a walk alone through these streets
crowded with men, who looked curiously, though not disrespectfully, at
the tall, slight, beautiful girl, who walked with a leisurely,
unbusiness-like air through the City.

'Yes, go and have a bun, and I will come to the office at half-past
three and wait for you in the sitting-room,' said Vava, who felt for her
sister being stared at so.

'I don't think there will be much of a sitting-room to wait in, Vava;
but when you come to fetch me, just take one of your lesson-books and
read quietly until I come down; and, remember, don't talk to any one,'
Stella admonished her sister.

Vava looked astonished and as if she were going to argue the question;
but the school-bell rang at that moment, and she ran off, turning round
to wave her hand to her sister, who stood watching her until she joined
a group of girls, with whom she seemed to be conversing in a most
friendly way, and not in the least as if it were the first time in her
life that she had ever seen them.

With a sigh, Stella turned away; she could not be like that, she could
not help being stiff and reserved. Vava was quite different, and her
elder sister found herself hoping fearfully that she would not get too
intimate with these 'City girls.' However, she consoled herself with the
thought that it could only be in school-hours, and that even in the
dinner interval she would be with the young teacher who was to take
special care of her, and who, at all events, would be an educated woman.

And then, as she felt somehow that her sauntering walk attracted too
much attention, she turned into a baker's shop, and, addressing the
pleasant-faced woman behind the counter, said, 'May I have a bun,
please, and rest here for half-an-hour until my office opens?'

'Indeed you may, miss, and if you like to step into my parlour you'll
find a fire there; it's no weather to be walking about the streets, and
none too pleasant for a young lady like you, not but what I say if you
show respect to yourself others will show it to you; still, my parlour's
the best place on a day like this,' said the baker's wife; for it was a
cold, frosty January day.

Stella thanked her kindly Samaritan, who little knew how nervous and
miserable her self-contained and dignified visitor felt as she sat
there, nor how reluctantly she rose to go to Baines, Jones & Co.'s
office.

The junior partner of the firm was not often so punctual at his office
as he was on this morning, on which ten o'clock found him sitting in his
private room, much to the perturbation of the clerks, who hurried in at
or just after the hour of ten.

'There's a lady to see you, sir,' said a young clerk, handing him a
card.

'Oh--er, yes; show her into this room,' said the junior partner, with an
embarrassment which amazed the clerk, who forthwith went and informed
his fellow-clerks that the young boss's best girl had called upon him,
and 'he doesn't seem too pleased, though she's handsome enough in all
conscience--a regular beauty, and no mistake, and a cut above him too;
though what she means by running after him to the City goodness knows!'

'There's no knowing what girls will do nowadays,' said a wise youth of
sixteen, who was promptly told to shut up.

But Stella, quite unconscious of these criticisms on her conduct, walked
quietly into the junior partner's room, and, bowing gravely, said, 'I am
Miss Wharton;' and waited for him to speak.

The junior partner rose from his seat and put a chair for her. 'I am
very glad to see you, Miss Wharton. I hope you had a pleasant
run--journey south?'

Stella might almost have been carved in stone as she answered, 'Yes,
thank you. Will you kindly tell me my duties?'

If her employer felt snubbed he did not show it, but told her what he
wanted her to do, and then showed her the room in which she was to work,
which was through the clerks' room. Suddenly a thought seemed to strike
him. 'There is another door to this room, and by it you could come along
the corridor to me when necessary without coming through the clerks'
office; and that is the housekeeper's room opposite. She will make you
tea, and give you hot water or anything you want,' he said, opening a
door on to the corridor.

Stella gravely bowed her thanks. She was grateful for the thought, and
she found her new employer very quiet and civil. When the morning was
over, and she took him his letters, which he was thankful to find
correctly done, he showed his kindness further by saying, 'There is a
ladies' club near here where lady-clerks can go and lunch very
reasonably and comfortably; the housekeeper will show you the way, if
you like. You will find it convenient to stay there till two o'clock;
the City is a dull place for young ladies.'

Stella thanked him again, and took his advice; but when she had left the
room the junior partner got up, stretched his long limbs, for he was a
tall, athletic man, who looked more as if he should have been on a yacht
than in a City office. 'Whew! what an iceberg! And to think that that
imperial beauty is my clerk, and that I have to give her orders from ten
to four, and be repressed and snubbed by her! As if I wanted to take a
liberty! Why, I dare not even mention the weather! Well, so be it; she's
a good typist, and has a good business head for all it's so
pretty.--Well, Mrs. Ryan, what is it? Come in. Did you take Miss Wharton
to the Enterprise Club--isn't that its name?'

'Yes, sir, I did, and right glad she was to be in such a place, so
bright and comfortable, poor, sweet young lady. But I came to ask you,
sir, couldn't she begin at half-past nine and stop at half-past three?'
inquired the kind-hearted Irishwoman, explaining about Vava and her
hours.

'H'm, it would suit her better, no doubt; but I don't know about me. Oh
yes, I could leave her work to do. By all means. Thanks for telling me;
I'll arrange it,' said the junior partner kindly, and added, 'And take
the little sister into your room if we have not quite finished, Mrs.
Ryan; the waiting-room is no place for her, if she is anything like her
sister.'

'The City's no place for either of them, Mr. James; but they could not
have found a better master than you, go where they might,' said the good
woman.

Mr. James laughed; but he did not like to hear himself spoken of as
Stella's master, and thought with a grim smile how angry she would have
been if she had heard the expression.

The clerks meanwhile had a subject for conversation which kept their
tongues wagging in an undertone, to the neglect of their work.

'The new lady-clerk! Who would have believed it? And she gave me her
card for all the world like a duchess.' Here there was a snigger, and
one of his fellow-clerks asked how duchesses gave their cards. And then
the buzz went on, and all were on the _qui vive_ for the door to open;
but, as is known, Stella did not pass through the room again, and the
next time they met her she was with the housekeeper, to whom she was
talking quite pleasantly. So that she could condescend when she liked,
they discovered.

All the same, Stella might have been set down as proud and stuck-up, and
been more unpopular than she was, though that probably would have
troubled her little but for what occurred that afternoon, which, much as
it annoyed her, was a very good thing.

The junior partner, it will be remembered, had had to wait for his
typist while she packed up and took leave of her Highland home, and then
motored leisurely to town, and certain foreign letters had got in
arrears, and the junior partner was anxious to get through them.

Consequently, when Vava called for her sister the latter was very busy.
The girl knew where the office was, but she did not know which door she
ought to knock at; then she saw 'Baines, Jones & Co.--Clerks' Room.' One
of the girls at school had called Stella a 'clerk,' when Vava had said
'secretary,' which sounded better. So at this door the girl knocked, and
in answer to a loud 'Come in!' she entered.

Twenty heads were lifted and looked at her; but Vava was not
self-conscious. She went forward, and with a friendly smile said, 'I
have called for my sister. May I sit here till she is ready?'

'Certainly--that is, yes. Take a seat, miss, till I tell the boss,' said
a youth, stammering rather, for it was awkward to refuse a young lady;
but that was not the place for her to wait.

'No, don't tell any one. Stella said I was not to interrupt her, as
she's only a paid servant like you; so just you go on with your work,
and don't waste your time like the idle apprentice in the tale.'

Vava had not spoken loud, and did not know that her words were overheard
by the whole room; still less was she aware that the young man of about
thirty who had come in while she was speaking was the young boss and her
sister's employer.

The boy to whom she had spoken had his back to him, and answered in
rather an aggrieved tone, 'I'm not wasting my time; I had to answer you,
and I must tell Mr. Jones, for I don't know that he'd like you to wait
here; this isn't the lady's waiting-room, you know!'

'Mr. Jones won't mind,' said that gentleman, coming forward, and adding,
'So you are Miss Wharton's sister?'

'Yes, but I don't want to be in the way; you all seem very busy. Can I
help you? I can write an awfully good hand, just like Stella's; she
taught me, you know,' said Vava.

A smile went round the room; but Mr. Jones said quite gravely, 'That is
very kind of you, and perhaps when we are hard pressed I shall take
advantage of that offer; but your sister has done so much to-day that I
think she will soon be ready for you.'

'Oh are you Mr. Jones?' said Vava, holding out her hand. 'I know some
more Joneses, only they are'----

'Yes, it's a very common name, almost the commonest in England and
Wales--rather a nuisance. But come along with me, and I will take you to
your sister,' he said.

'Good-bye,' said Vava, nodding to the boy she had called the 'idle
apprentice.'

'So the beauty's name is Stella!' observed one of the young men.

But he got no further. 'Shut up, Jim, and don't be such a cad as to take
advantage of that youngster's friendly ways. If ever I hear any of you
making free with Miss Wharton's name he'll regret it,' said the clerk in
charge of the room, and his feelings on the subject were evidently
shared by the rest of his fellow-clerks, for one or two of them said, by
way of agreement, 'Yes, she's a nice little girl; evidently just up from
the country, and not used to this kind of life, and in mourning too.'

So Stella was allowed to come and go, with no more attention or notice
than the raising of their hats as they passed her, and it is to be
doubted whether she could at the end of six months have recognised one
of them if she had been required for any reason to do so.

Mr. Jones meanwhile took Vava into his own room, and sitting down began
to talk to her of her new school and schoolfellows.

'They're all right, and the school is all right, and I like the
mistresses, especially the one that takes my class--she looks so
honest,' announced Vava.

'Don't the others look honest?' inquired Mr. Jones, looking amused. He
had noticed that Vava spoke a little evasively of the school and its
pupils as being 'all right,' which sounded qualified praise, and he was,
or appeared to be, very much interested in her conversation.

'Oh I don't know; I didn't mean anything. I just liked Miss Courteney's
face best, and I shall get to like the girls when I can understand
them.' Here Vava laughed. 'They say some words so funnily;' and she
tried to imitate them.

Mr. James Jones laughed heartily, and Vava, encouraged by him, was
taking off some of her schoolfellows when Stella came to the door. Her
face was a study, and both Mr. Jones and Vava jumped up with the air of
culprits, as if they had been discovered doing wrong.

'I have brought the letters.--Vava, go into the housekeeper's room,
please; you are interrupting Mr. Jones,' said the elder sister, holding
open the door 'like an avenging angel,' as the junior partner afterwards
said.




CHAPTER VI.

IN LONELY LODGINGS.


When the two girls stood outside the door they turned and looked at each
other for a moment, and then without a word Stella led the way down the
corridor to her own little room.

Nothing could have had a greater effect upon Vava, who would far rather
have had a good scolding than this silent disapproval. 'Is this your
sitting-room, Stella? What a nice one, and you have a fire; it has been
rather cold at school,' said the girl in a repressed voice as she spread
out her hands to the blaze.

Then Stella's heart melted. To be sure, Vava had been very disobedient;
she had been told to speak to no one, but to learn her lessons quietly
while she was waiting. Instead of which, Stella--remembering the voices
she had heard in the next room--felt sure she had been talking in her
free way with every one. Still, it was their first day alone in London,
and Vava looked so unlike herself with the joy and brightness gone out
of her face, so she said kindly, if gravely, 'Yes, this is my room, and
another time, please, come straight here, unless I come and call for
you, which would be better, I think, if you do not obey me. But let me
hear about school. I hope they have fires there?'

'Oh yes, but I was sitting near a window, and my feet and hands got cold
with having to sit still so long, I suppose; the girls say they get
chilblains as soon as they come back to school,' replied Vava.

'You must wear mittens and warm house-shoes. But about the school,
Vava--do you like it? Are you glad to go to school?'

'Not much; but, Stella, don't send me away from you. I will do what you
tell me, really; I promise I will, unless I forget. I forgot to-day, or
I would not have talked to any one. I know you're awfully angry with me;
but I think I was a little flustered by all the crowds in the streets,
and I just went into the first room where I saw Baines, Jones & Co.
written!' cried Vava eagerly.

'I understand that you were bewildered; but you must try and remember
that you are not at Lomore, and that you must not make friends without
my leave, or else I shall feel that I cannot take care of you, and that
it's not right to keep you with me,' said Stella.

'Then I shall die in this dreadful place without you,' declared Vava in
tragic tones.

'Vava, something has happened. What is it? What has made you take such a
dislike to London? You liked it well enough yesterday,' exclaimed Stella
anxiously. She had been putting on her hat and coat as she spoke, and
had just said this, when Mrs. Ryan, the housekeeper, came in with a
tray, on which there were two cups of tea and delicious thin bread and
butter and cakes.

'I have brought you a warm cup of tea to keep the cold out on your way
home, and one for this young lady, who is your sister, as is plain to
see. Dear, dear! and to think of you two poor lambs all alone! My dear,
don't be offended with me; but if, as you say, you have no relations or
friends in London, I hope you'll count me as one, and come to me if you
are in any trouble, just as if I were'--a fine tact made the old
Irishwoman say, 'your old housekeeper,' instead of 'your mother.'

Stella held out her hand and smiled. 'Thank you, Mrs. Ryan; indeed you
are a friend, and I will come to you for advice,' she said.

'And, do you know, you remind me a little of nursie, our housekeeper at
Lomore, only she is Scotch; but I can understand your way of speaking,
and that's more than I can the people at school,' Vava remarked, with
such a tone of disgust that the other two laughed.

But Stella looked relieved. 'So that's it, is it? I suppose they laughed
at you for talking with a Scotch accent? I have often told you, Vava,
that you should not copy old Duncan as you did,' protested Stella; for
Vava talked much broader Scotch than Stella, and used words which are
not in use or understood south of the Border.

'They're stupid things, and I don't want to talk like them. Anyway, they
don't pronounce lots of their words right; they say "wat" and "ware" for
"what" and "where;" so of course I got a lot of mistakes in my English
dictation. But I beat them in my French,' she wound up triumphantly.

'You'll soon get used to that, miss, and there isn't a better school in
London than the one you're at; there's no money spared on it, for it's a
rich company that has it, though I don't know exactly why they have it,'
said Mrs. Ryan.

'I do; a rich merchant's wife founded it!' cried Vava, and poured forth
the history of the foundation of the school to her two listeners, till
Stella stopped her.

'Now, Vava, we must not keep Mrs. Ryan.--My sister does not understand
that the City is the place for business, not for paying visits or
amusing one's self; and you might tell her that she must not make
acquaintance with strangers,' said Stella, turning to Mrs. Ryan.

Mrs. Ryan raised her hands in amazement at such imprudence. 'Indeed no.
There was a young girl I knew up from the country, and one day she was
taking her ticket at one of the London stations, and there was rather a
crowd, so, being timid, she stepped back and waited; then who should
come up to her but a gentleman, as she called him, and, taking off his
hat as polite as could be, says, "Can I take your ticket for you, miss?
It's not fit for you to be pushing into a rough crowd like that;" and
she, like the silly she was, thanks him and hands him her purse with all
her week's money in it; and off he goes.' Here Mrs. Ryan ended, and
nodded her head at Vava.

But Vava in her innocence did not understand the moral of the story, and
said simply, 'That was very kind of him?'

'Yes, very kind! But he never got the ticket, and the poor girl never
saw her purse nor the kind gentleman again,' explained Mrs. Ryan.

Vava's eyes were wide with horror. 'What a wicked, cruel man! But
everybody can't be wicked like that!' she cried.

'No, indeed; thank God, there are many good people here; but there are
rogues as well, and as you are too young to know the one from the other
you must not talk to any of them,' Mrs. Ryan said.

The story made Vava very thoughtful. 'I wonder whether Mr. Jones is a
rogue?' she said musingly.

But Mrs. Ryan was scandalised. 'Sakes alive, miss, don't say such a
thing in his own office! He is one of the best and most respected
gentlemen in the City of London, as I well know, having worked for him
and his father this thirty years!' she exclaimed.

'Vava lets her tongue run away with her.--Come, Vava, we really must be
going,' said Stella hastily, and she took her younger sister off with
her.

It was dusk now, but the two enjoyed their walk back along the
Embankment, for it did not occur to them to take a bus or train; three
miles was nothing to them. Moreover, they had had tea, and were in no
hurry to get back to their cramped lodgings. It was well that Vava could
not see her sister's amused smile, which broke out several times on the
way home at the remembrance of the younger girl's suggestion that the
junior partner might be a rogue; and it is to be feared that Stella
would not have been sorry if her employer--whom she suspected unjustly
of thinking a good deal of himself and of wishing to patronise her and
pity her for having 'come down in the world'--had heard Vava's remark.

It might have gratified her if she had known that Mrs. Ryan went
straight to her master and told him the whole story.

Mr. James, as she called him, laughed heartily. 'I'm sure that's what
her elder sister thinks me. Well, it does not much matter, as long as
she does her work as well as she did to-day, so business-like and
correctly--first accurate young woman I have ever met with; and the poor
thing will have a better time here than she would with many firms. You
will be sure to look after her well, Mrs. Ryan? My father is most
particular that she should be comfortable--as comfortable as possible,
that is to say; so be sure and give her tea before she goes, or anything
she wants.'

From which conversation it will be seen that Mr. Stacey had found a good
berth for his young client, and had evidently given her a high
testimonial.

It was six o'clock by the time the girls reached Vincent Street, and
they seated themselves on uncomfortable arm-chairs in front of the smoky
fire, which they lit as soon as they got in. Vava had her lessons to do;
but after their tea-supper, for which the landlady declined to cook
anything but eggs--'London eggs,' as Vava said--Stella looked round for
something to do. There was no piano, she had no books, nor was she fond
of fancy-work, and of useful work she had none, for 'nursie' had always
done most of the mending for her young ladies, though she had taught
them both to work. Before they left home she had set their wardrobes in
thorough order. 'So that you'll not have to trouble about them for a
long while yet; and perhaps, who knows, the Lord may have made a way for
me to come to you before they need looking to again,' the old woman had
said, with some kind of idea that her beautiful young mistress would not
somehow be left by Providence in a position for which she was so
unfitted, in the old housekeeper's opinion.

So now Stella looked round for something to do, and finding nothing,
passed a dreary evening, till Vava had finished preparing her lessons,
and said with a yawn, 'Let's go to bed, Stella. What's the good of
sitting up, staring at this horrid wall-paper with those hideous flowers
that aren't like any flowers that ever grew in a garden?'

Stella gave a sigh, which, in spite of all her resolutions to be brave,
she could not suppress. 'It is not very comfortable here, to be sure;
but I don't know where else to go. There is a large kind of ladies'
residential club near here, but I do not know if we should like it, and
we should have no private sitting-room; so you would have to prepare
your lessons in your bedroom, which I dislike,' she replied.

'Oh that would be horrid; the room would get so hot and stuffy, and we
should not sleep. I wish we could have a little house of our own. I am
sure there must be little houses to let that we could afford, like the
one Dr M'Farlane's sisters lived in at Lomore.'

'We will go and have a look to-morrow on our way home,' said Stella,
smiling. She was glad of something to look forward to besides going to
the City. She had only had one day of it; but she disliked it intensely,
and asked herself how she was to bear her life with nothing but this to
look forward to through the long years. Yet, if she had but known it,
she was extremely fortunate, and her lot was a far better one than it
might have been but for the influence of kind friends.

And so the two tired heads were laid down to rest, intending, in their
ignorance, to look for a small house which they could rent, and which
would be more comfortable and no more expensive than their present
abode. Next day, however, was wet, and they had quite enough walking to
the City and back, and came in at five o'clock, with another long
evening before them, lightened in Stella's case by a book from the
library of her City Club for Lady-Clerks; so that it was not until
Friday that the two girls looked about on their way home for a small
house to let.

Vava, who seemed singularly uncommunicative about her life at school,
was quite eager in the search for this ideal small house, and looked up
each street they passed by to see if there were any prospect of its
being found there.

'I think, Vava, it will be no use looking so near the City. Mrs. Ryan
tells me that rents are very high here; Westminster is a cheaper part,'
said Stella.

'Still, there's no harm in looking, I'm sure. I have seen quite small
houses that can't cost much,' said Vava; and at last she cried out with
delight at sight of quite a small-looking house, jammed between two
large buildings, which bore the words, 'To Let.' It was situated in one
of the narrow streets leading from the Strand to the river.

Stella looked doubtfully at it. 'I think it is larger than it looks,
Vava, and we really only need five or six rooms; and you know we must
not give too much rent, for I do not want to spend all our income,' she
said gravely.

'I'm sure this will be quite cheap. Do let's ask,' said Vava
impatiently.

So urged, Stella rang the bell marked 'Caretaker;' and after a long
wait, a grim and unfriendly-looking man appeared.

'Would you please tell me the rent of this house?' inquired Stella.

'Do you want an office in it?' inquired the caretaker.

'No-o. I wanted to know the rent of the whole house,' said the girl.

The man looked at her curiously; but she looked so grave and dignified
that he concluded that she was sent by some one else. 'Well, the rent's
three hundred pounds on a long lease, you may tell them,' he informed
her.

'Thank you,' said Stella quietly, and turned away.

'Three hundred pounds for that dirty little house! Oh London is a horrid
place, Stella! Let's go back to Lomore!' cried Vava.

Stella wished they could; but her sense of duty came to her aid, and she
said, 'That is quite impossible, Vava; we must stay in London. So the
best thing we can do is to try and be as happy as we can here, and do
our duty. We will live upon as little as we can, and save money, so that
we can go away for our holidays.'

These same holidays, if she had but known it, were a most unusual thing;
for Stella was to have a month in the summer, and ten days at Easter.
And the two began to plan a delightful Easter at the seaside somewhere,
and by the time they got home to their lodgings Vava was quite cheerful
again.




CHAPTER VII.

KIND-HEARTED LONDONERS.


'Oh Stella, it's a mist, a blacky-yellow mist--I mean a fog! How horrid!
What shall I do here all by myself while you are in the City? And how
will you get there? I shall be so frightened all the morning, thinking
you are lost. Can't I come with you? I will sit quite quietly in your
room while you are writing, and perhaps I could help you!' cried Vava on
the second Saturday morning, when she woke up to find London quite dark
and enveloped in a yellow fog.

'I can't take you with me, Vava; it would never do. That is not my room;
it is Messrs Baines & Jones's room. If I brought you there to help me it
would look as if I had too much to do, which is not true,' replied
Stella.

'Then let me stop with Mrs. Ryan. I will do my lessons, and sew that
horrid piece of needlework I have to get done by next sewing-lesson.
Don't leave me in this poky little place by myself,' pleaded Vava.

As a matter of fact, Stella hated these Saturdays, when she had to go to
the City alone, because Vava had no school that day, and to-day she was
really nervous of the fog. So she said doubtfully, 'If you promise to
stop quietly in Mrs. Ryan's room, and not go out of it on any excuse
until I come to fetch you, I will take you, though it is rather
extravagant, for we shall have to go by omnibus.'

'Never mind, it will be my Saturday's treat,' said Vava; and the two set
out for the City.

Mrs. Ryan held up her hands at sight of them. 'There's brave young
ladies! Not one of the young ladies of Philips's downstairs have come
yet, and three of them that live some way off have sent telephone
messages to say it's too thick their way, and they want to be excused.'

'I want to be excused for bringing Vava. She would not be left alone,
and was sure you would not mind her sitting quietly in your room doing
her lessons. I hope you will not mind?' said Stella.

'Mind! Why, I'm only too glad of a bit of company, and Miss Vava's as
welcome as the sunshine would be, for it's what she reminds me of!'
cried Mrs. Ryan heartily.

Mr. James looked up in surprise at sight of Stella. 'Miss Wharton! I did
not expect you to-day; it is one of the worst fogs we have had for
years. I wonder you found your way, as you are not used to London!' he
exclaimed.

'The omnibus took me all the way,' said Stella gravely, and opened her
note-book to take down her instructions; and Mr. James, who very seldom
ventured to make even a remark like that, turned to business; but when
his secretary had gone, and the darkness became thicker still, he looked
uneasily out of the window, and then rang for the housekeeper.

'Mrs. Ryan, the fog is getting worse; I don't think that Miss Wharton
ought to go home alone,' he began, looking disturbed.

'She's not alone, sir, begging your pardon; her little sister is here in
my room,' observed the housekeeper.

The young man looked relieved. 'That's a good thing; she has really got
more sense than the elder one in some ways. But how on earth are they to
get back? I'd offer to take them in my car, only she'd fly down my
throat,' he said with an aggrieved air.

'And begging your pardon again, sir, I think the more of Miss Wharton
for her proper pride; but if I might make so bold as to suggest it, you
might send the motor back for them,' suggested Mrs. Ryan.

'By all means; they're welcome to it as much as they like. I'll tell you
what, Mrs. Ryan, they'll have to stop till it comes back. Suppose you
give them lunch? I'll have it sent in, and you will tell them it's the
custom of the firm. I'd like to give that little girl some pleasure; I'm
sure her life's dull enough. I hear her sister won't let her make
friends with the girls at school, and they don't know a soul else in
London, for she told Miss Upjohn so,' said Mr. James, who talked to Mrs.
Ryan very freely, as she was an old servant of the family.

Mrs. Ryan was only too pleased to do anything for the Misses Wharton, to
whom she had taken a great fancy, and promised to see to the lunch.

Vava sat and learnt her lessons very conscientiously while Mrs. Ryan
went about her duties. After a while Mr. James, who had a message to
give the housekeeper, and probably found time hang heavy on his hands
this morning--for it was not a day for callers--came to the
housekeeper's room.

'Well, and what have you got to say about our English climate?' was his
greeting.

Vava put down her English grammar with relief. 'Nothing good,' she said,
laughing and shaking her head.

'It's like swallowing nasty-tasting flannel, isn't it?' he agreed.

'Yes, and it's getting worse; it was bad enough getting here, and how on
earth we are going to get back nobody knows,' said Vava, as she looked
out of the window at the fog, which got thicker and thicker, and was
enough to frighten any country-bred girl, though Vava would not own it.

'Then I must be "nobody," because I know,' he said.

Vava looked up in surprise, and then guessing that he meant to take them
home, a kindness she knew Stella would not accept, she said, 'We shall
go in a bus, thank you, and I'm not as afraid as you think, for I've
often been out in a mist at home, and they are more dangerous than this,
for they come on suddenly, and you can't see a thing.'

'Mrs. Ryan does not approve of the bus; besides, they do not seem to be
running. So she suggests your going in my car, which will come back for
you after it has taken me home. Will you tell your sister it's the only
thing to do?' asked Mr. James.

It did not strike Vava that the junior partner might have given his own
message to his secretary, and agreed to deliver it; and, as Mrs. Ryan
backed her up, Stella gave way.

'Baines & Jones are a very good firm to work for, and they look after
their people well. After all, why shouldn't they? They're rich enough,
and it's good policy, for they get well served; so you may eat this
lunch quite comfortably, for they say you are the best lady they've had
for a long time; you know French so well, and you write first-rate
business letters. So you've earned your lunch for that, if you hadn't
earned it by coming through such an awful fog to-day,' explained Mrs.
Ryan, as she served lunch for the two sisters.

Mrs. Ryan would not exactly say, as her master told her, that it was the
custom to give lunch; in fact, at sight of the menu she was told to get
she was half-afraid Miss Wharton would refuse it, for chicken and
cherry-tart with cream, followed by coffee and dessert, was rather a
grand lunch to send in for a City clerk.

But Stella in her ignorance supposed it was usual; City dinners always
were rich, like the givers, she knew.

'Isn't this lovely? I wish it would often be a fog; this is better than
going to a stuffy restaurant,' announced Vava; and Mrs. Ryan determined
to tell the kind-hearted giver of the pleasure his lunch had given.

But there was more pleasure to come. In about an hour the motor came
back for them, and they started off very slowly. After a quarter of an
hour they came to a stop, owing to a block at one of the bridges over
the Thames.

'It's funny it should be so thick here; it's lovely a few miles out,'
said the chauffeur, turning to address his passengers.

'How I wish we were a few miles out too, then!' cried Vava impulsively.

The two girls did not see a half-amused look that came into the staid
and respectable man's eyes as he replied, 'Well, miss, I have to take a
run down to Brighton, and if you would let me turn off south over this
bridge I could take you there almost as soon as I could take you home at
the rate we're going, and perhaps by the time we got back it would be
fine again?'

Put like this, it sounded almost a favour to the chauffeur to let him
get his business over first; though, perhaps, if they had had time to
think, Stella at least would have bethought her that Brighton was
slightly out of the way from the City to Westminster!

But Vava's cry of 'Oh do, Stella, do! I should so like to see the sea
again,' settled it.

'There's plenty of rugs there, miss,' said the man, as he turned over
the bridge with the same amused smile, and, as he had said, soon brought
them into a better atmosphere, and finally to Brighton, where the sun
was shining.

'If you'll let me know what time you wish to go back, miss, I'll meet
you wherever you like,' said the chauffeur, touching his hat.

'As soon as your business is done, of course,' said Stella.

'Oh well'--here the man coughed--'yes, of course. Well, my business
won't take long; but I haven't to get back for anything to-day, and my
master said I could stop a bit. But, of course, if you are in a
hurry'----he replied.

Stella looked doubtful, and consulted her watch. It was half-past three;
they had another hour and a half of daylight, and it was very nice by
the sea.

'There's no hurry at all, Stella; there's lots to see and do
here.--You'll want to have some dinner, won't you?' Vava added, turning
to the man.

'I'd be glad to see some friends I've got down here, and they'll look
after me. Would seven o'clock suit you, young ladies?'

Again Stella agreed; but a feeling, which she could not define, that she
was being managed somehow came over her. But she forgot it in the
pleasure of the brisk walk by the sea, the visit to the aquarium, and,
finally, listening to the band on the pier.

'Stella, I've come to the conclusion that we are wrong about London
people,' announced Vava, as they sat in a sheltered corner listening to
the music.

'How, Vava?' asked her sister.

'Nursie always used to say they were hard and selfish and suspicious,
and I find that they are very kind. First there were the Montague
Joneses, and now there's Mrs. Ryan and your Mr. Jones and this
chauffeur, all being as kind as can be,' explained Vava.

'He's not my Mr. Jones,' said Stella sharply, taking up the offensive
words. Then she continued, 'Yes, they are kind; but I do not much like
accepting kindnesses we cannot return.'

'But we do return it by enjoying ourselves and thanking them, and you
heard Mrs. Ryan say that the firm wanted to reward your good work, or,
at least, that was what she meant, and you do work hard, and do overtime
too sometimes; and I am going to knit a Shetland shawl for Mrs. Ryan, so
that will be doing her a kindness in return,' declared Vava.

Stella sighed. 'I wish I were like you, able to enjoy everything, Vava,'
she said half-sadly. To the proud, reserved girl, her present life was
intolerable.

'Oh don't, Stella! Fancy, if you were like me, really! We should get
into all sorts of muddles; besides, people would not be so kind to us!'
she added shrewdly.

Stella refrained from asking her what she meant; for she knew too, and,
funnily enough, resented the attention which her beauty brought her.
However, Vava's words did good; and Stella, whatever she might say, did
enjoy the trip. And she thanked the chauffeur so prettily that the man
was quite captivated.

'I am sure, miss, it's been a pleasure, and I only hope I shall have the
same pleasure again;' and he would have said more, but on the whole he
thought it wiser not to do so.

'This has been the nicest day we have spent since we came to London,'
Vava assured the man, smiling and nodding at him as he respectfully took
his leave.

Stella looked very grave as she put her latch-key into the front-door of
their lodgings. 'I am not sure that it is a wise thing to take these
treats; it only seems to make you dissatisfied with the outings that I
can afford.'

'Indeed it does not, only I liked seeing the sea, and I do love rushing
through the country in a motor; but I enjoyed the Tower very much, and I
shall enjoy the Houses of Parliament next Saturday all the more for
having had a change in between. Besides, it was delightful to get out of
that awful fog; we could not have done anything to-day if we had stayed
in London except sit in this little room with the gas lit. It was kind
of Mr. James.'

'Yes,' agreed Stella; but she did not think it necessary to tell Vava
that she was not going to accept such kindnesses in future, however much
Mrs. Ryan might say it was 'the custom of the firm.'




CHAPTER VIII.

GOOD MANNERS.


'Do you think you can walk to school by yourself this morning, Vava?'
inquired Stella a little doubtfully as they stood at the parting of
their ways one week-day morning in the City. Stella had always walked to
the school-gates with her younger sister; but to-day she had work
waiting her at the office, and she was anxious to get there early.

'Of course I can; I'm the only girl in the whole school who is taken to
school like a kindergarten child, and some of them even come quite alone
without their nurses or any grown-up person!' cried Vava, airing what
was rather a grievance with her.

Stella put on her most dignified air. 'Very possibly; but I do not wish
to be taught manners by your schoolfellows or their parents. That class
of person does not go in for chaperons,' she said in her clear voice.

'Oh Stella!' cried Vava, flushing crimson and looking very vexed.

'What is the matter, Vava?' exclaimed Stella in astonishment.

'That was one of the girls in my form, and she heard you!' protested
Vava.

Stella looked as vexed as Vava; she would not for worlds hurt any one's
feelings willingly, and she knew too that she ought not to have said
what she did; but pride was Stella's besetting sin, and she hated having
to mix with people whom she considered her inferiors, and her present
life and surroundings only made her prouder.

'I am sorry; I forgot we were so near the school. Perhaps she did not
understand me. You say the girls find your Scotch accent difficult to
follow?' suggested the girl.

'Well, good-bye,' said Vava; and went off one way, while Stella turned
down the street leading to her office without further comment.

When she had left her sister, Stella thought no more of her unfortunate
speech. It had been unwise; but, after all, it was quite true. And if
the girl had overheard it all, the worst she could think was that Vava's
sister was proud, and that she thought herself superior to the pupils of
the City School for Girls, which last, Stella privately thought, they
could see for themselves.

But Vava did not forget it, and looked very gloomy as she walked along,
her eyes looking straight in front of her, not seeing any one.

'Hallo, Vava Wharton! Where are you--in the moon, wool-gathering?'
inquired a hearty voice beside her, and a rather stout, common-looking
girl, who, however, was nicely dressed and had a pleasant face, patted
her on the back.

'Oh Doreen! you startled me. I was thinking!' ejaculated Vava.

'Not very pleasant thoughts, by the look of you,' said Doreen, with a
sharp look at Vava's grave face.

'No, they were not,' admitted Vava.

'What's the row? Not any trouble at home, I hope?' asked the girl
kindly, and her rough, boisterous voice grew quite gentle.

'I have no home,' said Vava.

'I'm sorry; but you have a sister, and, I say, isn't she a beauty?
You're lucky to have her; I have no sister. If it's anything I can help
about you may as well tell me; come, out with it. You'll be in the dumps
all day if you've got it on your mind. Is it the lessons?'

'No, it's nothing to do with school; at least--well, it's something my
sister said about school just now that is bothering me.'

'Doesn't she think you are getting on well, or working hard enough?
Because, if that is all, you just introduce me to her to-morrow morning,
and let me talk to her, and I'll soon teach her different,' said the
girl cheerfully.

Vava thought to herself that Doreen would not have made this suggestion
if she had overheard Stella's opinion of her schoolfellows, and she felt
that, kind though she was, Doreen was the last girl she would like to
introduce to her sister. 'It was just a stupid remark my sister made
about the manners at school,' explained Vava.

'The manners at school? Why, we're supposed to have very good manners!
I'm sure we're always being drilled in good manners by Miss Upjohn, and
the inspectors and visitors always say there's such a good tone among
the girls!' exclaimed Doreen, and she looked at Vava as if she suspected
her of having taken some tales to her sister, or made some complaint
about them. Then as Vava did not answer, for she could not very well
explain the true facts of the case, Doreen went on, 'I suppose you think
we are not too civil to you about your Scotch accent; but, if we
laughed, we didn't mean it unkindly. It's no use being too thin-skinned
in this world. I should think your sister was rather too delicate for
roughing it in London; she looks as if she ought to be a duchess, not a
City clerk.'

'That's just it!' burst forth Vava impulsively.

'Is that what's bothering you? Well, I shouldn't worry about that. Some
rich man will come along and marry her before long, you'll see; she's
far too pretty to remain single. But,' she added, as a thought struck
her, 'why did you first say it was our bad manners that upset you, and
then that it was your sister being a clerk?'

Then Vava told the whole story, adding, 'I hope you are not offended?
Stella only meant'----

'She only meant that you are a cut above the rest of us, and it's quite
true, and of course we know that. Why, the first day you came in with
her we thought it was some grand visitor coming. I'm sorry Rosie Brown
overheard it; she can be nasty when she likes, and she considers herself
some one too, for her father is an alderman. Anyway, I'm glad you've
told me, and I'll tackle her if she says anything,' declared Doreen, not
letting Vava finish her apology.

'Oh I hope she won't; the girls will be so annoyed!' cried Vava in a
fright.

'It's not your fault; they won't blame you; I'm sure you're pleasant and
friendly enough with them all. Anyhow, as I said before, I'll give them
a piece of my mind if they say anything, and I'll be your friend if
you'll let me. Of course, I know you are a lady and I'm not, and I don't
talk good grammar and you do, though you roll your "r's" and say
"w_h_at" in a funny way; but I'd like to talk better if you'll learn me.
You see, I am to be a teacher one day, and it'll stand in my way, and
father says a good education is a fortune,' answered Doreen.

'I'll teach you, not "learn" you, if I can; for our governess did teach
us grammar, and our father was very particular how we spoke, so I
suppose we do speak better than a great many girls,' said Vava, laughing
and looking quite bright again.

'And we'll be chums?' demanded the girl.

'Yes, if you like,' agreed Vava, not seeing very well how she was to get
out of it, but wondering what Stella would say to her choice of a
friend. As they entered the playground she saw Rosie Brown the centre of
a little group of girls, who looked up as she came in, and then looked
away again, without nodding good-morning as usual.

Vava's heart sank; but Doreen said in her loud cheery voice, 'Hallo, you
there! What are you all confabbing about so mysteriously? Nice manners
that!' she wound up purposely.

'Oh we can't all have the manners of your friend Lady Clara Vere de
Vere! I wonder she condescends to talk to you or come to our school at
all with the people of our class,' said one of the girls.

Vava's colour rose, but she walked on without taking the least notice of
what was said.

Not so, Doreen. She stopped in front of them, and demanded loudly, 'What
do you mean by that? I have no titled friend, because I'm only a
tradesman's daughter, and very proud of the fact, for he earned every
penny he's got honestly, which is more than you can say of some grand
people.'

'We don't mean anything to do with you, Doreen; you don't give yourself
airs or despise us; but if you knew what Vava Wharton thinks of you, you
wouldn't walk with her!' said Rosie Brown.

'Wouldn't I? Well, I just should, then, for she's my chum, and any one
who speaks against her speaks against me. And, pray, how do you know
what she thinks of me? Has she been telling you?' inquired Doreen,
standing square and uncompromising before the angry group.

'She thinks you're no class, as she does the rest of us,' said Rosie
Brown.

Doreen turned on her. 'Does she? She's never shown any signs of it. No
one could be nicer and more friendly than Vava Wharton has been ever
since she has been here, and I shouldn't have thought she was one to go
behind my back and say I was no class, especially to you, Rosie. Anyway,
I've a right to know what she said about me,' demanded Doreen, who knew
very well what Rosie meant, and that she was putting her in an awkward
position.

'If she didn't, that stuck-up sister of hers did,' said Rosie sulkily.

'Well, I shouldn't call her stuck-up after she has been talking to you,'
observed Doreen sarcastically.

'_She_ talk to me! She wouldn't demean herself by addressing a word to
any one under a duke. I happened to overhear a remark she made,' said
Rosie, falling into the trap.

'And you repeated a private remark that you listened to? That's nice and
honourable, anyway. I wonder what Miss Upjohn would say if she heard of
it? But you mind one thing, all of you--if you choose to take any notice
of anything heard by eavesdropping, you can. I call it playing it low
down; but you're not going to annoy Vava Wharton, who is not to blame
one bit, and if you do I'll just go straight to the head-mistress and
tell her, and we'll see what she says about honour,' announced Doreen.
Having said so, she turned on her heel and followed Vava into the
cloak-room, leaving the little group of girls--to whom she had given 'a
piece of her mind,' as she called it--looking rather crestfallen.

'All the same, she does consider herself better than us, or why does she
say good-bye so quickly if she sees her sister, and sit next a mistress
at lunch?' inquired Rosie.

'It's a free country, I suppose she can do as she likes. I believe she
told me she had come from a lonely part of Scotland, and wasn't used to
living in a great city, and that crowds rather frightened her,' observed
a girl who looked rather ashamed of having listened to this
tittle-tattle.

'It's all right. I've shut her up, mean eavesdropper, and made them all
feel ashamed of themselves; so don't you worry about it any more,'
Doreen whispered to Vava, as she took off her boots and put on
school-shoes.

'Oh thank you,' was all Vava said, and she felt very grateful and
friendly toward Doreen; but during the day she found herself wondering
what Stella would say to this new friend, for she was sure Doreen would
expect to be introduced to Stella if they met on the way to school,
which they were pretty sure to do. And, grateful as she was to Doreen
for her championship, she found herself wishing that the girl was a
little more refined. However, Vava was no snob, and she determined to
face facts and tell Stella she must be friends with Doreen, and so she
did.

Stella heard her without making any remark, until Vava said, 'And, of
course, you need not speak to her if she comes up to us in the street;
she's sure to do that, because she has not very good manners.'

'She has very good principles and a good heart, which are more
important, and I shall certainly stop and thank her for being so kind to
you this morning,' remarked Stella.

Vava was so surprised that she stared at Stella. 'But--but she's not a
lady, Stella, and she talks dreadful grammar sometimes; but she asked me
to correct her, so she is trying to improve,' Vava observed.

'I don't suppose you will learn bad grammar from her, and as you only
see her in school you will not be too much in her company.'

All the same, Vava was glad the next morning that they did not meet
Doreen, and sorry the morning after when they did. To her surprise,
Doreen only nodded when she caught sight of them, and walked on the
other side of the street.

'Who is that, Vava?' inquired Stella, seeing her nod to some one.

'That is Doreen,' replied Vava.

'Tell her to come and speak to me; I should like to know her,' announced
Stella.

Vava ran across to Doreen, and gave Stella's message.

'Does she really? May I really?' stammered Doreen, quite flustered.

'Yes, of course; she's not a bit stiff when you know her,' Vava assured
her, for she guessed that Doreen was a little afraid of the stately lady
in black.

But Stella gave her lovely smile, and Doreen forgot her fears as she
gazed in frank admiration at Miss Wharton, who said, 'Thank you for
being so nice to Vava yesterday. I ought not to have said what I did,
for, after all, you showed better manners than I.'

'Oh but I didn't. I'd love to have manners like you; and father said,
when I told him last night, that it was only a natural remark, and that
people would always be divided into classes as long as the world lasted,
and that it was very hard on you having to come down from your class and
mix with us; but that you'd find we'd a lot of good in us, though we had
no manners,' cried Doreen eagerly.

'I am sure of it,' said Stella, who did not seem to mind the girl's
plain speaking.

Doreen looked at Stella suddenly, and gave a great sigh. She was quite
at ease with her, Vava noticed with surprise, and with still greater
surprise that Stella seemed to like her and not to notice her rough
speech. 'Well, what was that sigh for?' Stella asked, smiling.

'You are so beautiful,' said Doreen bluntly.

Stella coloured a little, and laughed as she said, 'I am glad you think
so; I don't think I am very different from other girls.' And then they
said good-bye to each other.

'She is as different as chalk from cheese!' cried Doreen
enthusiastically to Vava.

'I don't think she's proud of being pretty; she never seems to notice
that,' said Vava; and she went into school much happier than she had
felt the day before, and relieved to think that she might make friends
with Doreen, whose fine character made her rather popular at school.




CHAPTER IX.

THE ENTERPRISE CLUB.


In one of the City of London's busiest thoroughfares, among the numerous
plates bearing the names and callings of the occupants of the different
chambers or offices in a certain big building, is a small plate with the
words 'Enterprise Club.' That is all the outward sign of the fact that
the only ladies' club in the City, a veritable haven of refuge for
lady-clerks and secretaries, has its quarters here.

It was here that Stella sat one lunch-time, looking so worried that a
ladylike-looking girl, to whom she had spoken once or twice, asked her
if she had a headache.

'No, no, thank you; I am quite well,' replied Stella, her brows still
knitted.

The girls at the Enterprise contented themselves with a nod of the head,
or a 'Good-morning,' to Stella, whom they put down as proud and
stuck-up. But this girl had gone a little farther, and had even elicited
the fact that she had a younger sister; and to-day, seeing Miss Wharton
look so grave, it occurred to her that it might be something connected
with this younger sister that was troubling her, and she asked, 'Is your
sister quite well? I have never seen her here. Doesn't she ever come?'

'My sister? No, she is not a member; she is only a schoolgirl. I did not
think it would be allowed,' said Stella.

'She could come as a visitor, and I am sure if you asked the secretary
she would make an exception and allow her to join. It would be so nice
if she could stay and play cards or dominoes after office hours on these
cold winter afternoons,' suggested the girl.

Stella's face brightened up so wonderfully that her companion guessed
that this was the difficulty. 'If she could, I should be so glad; she is
very good, but she feels the dullness of life in lodgings, and I am
beginning to be quite anxious about her. She would like to come here
sometimes, I am sure.'

'Then let us ask the secretary at once, and she can come this evening,'
suggested the good-natured girl.

The secretary gave a ready consent, and that afternoon, instead of going
straight home, Vava was brought into the Enterprise Club, and sank with
a little exclamation of pleasure into one of the comfortable
easy-chairs, and looked round the tastefully furnished room. She was
soon invited to play a game of draughts by one of the younger girls, for
Vava did not inspire awe as Stella did.

'If next Saturday is wet or horrid like last Saturday, I shall ask
Stella to bring me here,' Vava announced, as she moved one of her 'men.'

'On Saturday! I should have thought you would want to get away from the
City as soon as possible! I should, I know,' said the other.

'But you are staying this evening,' Vava pointed out.

'That is because my chum Amy is working late; I always wait for her
rather than go home alone; but on Saturdays we generally go for a long
bicycle ride or something, to get some fresh air and fresh ideas,'
announced the girl, hopping over two of Vava's 'men.'

'I wish I rode a bicycle; but we always rode horses in Scotland--at
least Stella did; I had a pony,' explained Vava.

'This must be a change for you!' cried the other; but said no more, for
the game absorbed her attention.

But the result of this conversation was that, the next Saturday being
wet, Vava's opponent suddenly said to her chum, 'Amy, we can't cycle
to-day; suppose we lunch at the Enterprise, and have some games with
those two new girls in mourning?'

'Oh the Misses Wharton? Have you fallen in love with the beautiful Miss
Wharton too?' replied the girl called Amy.

'Is that their name? But it isn't Miss Wharton I am thinking of; it's
her younger sister. Fancy, they have been used to riding their own
horses, and now they walk to the City and back! She wants to stay at the
Enterprise on Saturday, so they can't have very nice "diggings,"'
replied her companion.

'It's not a bad place to spend a wet afternoon in; so, if you like, we
will lunch there; it's just as comfortable as Bleak House,' replied Amy.

'Yes, but one gets tired of living in a crowd. Oh how I wish we could
afford a cottage in the country!' said the younger girl.

'But we cannot, Eva; so let us try to be contented with our lot,'
replied Amy.

By way of showing her content, Eva grumbled loudly at it to Vava. The
four were sitting at the same table, having lunch, and she found only
too willing a listener in Vava Wharton to sympathise with her.

'Cheer up, Eva; things might be worse. Here we are sitting on a wet and
bitterly cold afternoon in a pleasant, warm room, in comfortable chairs,
surrounded by newspapers, magazines, and fashion papers! What more could
you have if you were a fashionable young lady?' inquired her chum Amy.

'I could have this room as my own, and money to spend on the fashions I
look at, and somewhere to show them off better than a stuffy office or
Bleak House,' retorted Eva.

'Bleak House! That is the name of one of Dickens's books!' exclaimed
Vava.

'It is the name of a large hostel or boarding-house for ladies who earn
their own living, where Eva and I live, and it is really quite
comfortable, only that it is not home,' said Amy, and she looked
sympathetically at Eva, who was only sixteen, and had begun early to
work for her daily bread.

There was silence for a moment, and the four young faces looked as grave
as if they had the cares of the world upon their shoulders.

Suddenly Eva broke out, 'I wouldn't mind if I had something different to
look forward to; but to think of going on for years the same dull grind
and back to the same crowd of girls, who can talk of nothing but their
office or else roller-skating; and Amy does not approve of going out to
amusements every evening.'

'We wanted to take a house, but it is too expensive, and the one we
looked at was dreadfully dear, although it had no garden. Oh how I would
love a house with a garden! Some of the girls at school have gardens,
and even greenhouses, for they bring leaves and flowers to school for
our painting and botany lessons, and yet they are not rich,' observed
Vava.

'All houses are not dear. Girls! I have an idea; let's take a house
between us--the four of us!' cried Eva suddenly.

Stella looked up, startled at this abrupt suggestion; but Eva's chum
Amy, who was used to her ways, only smiled, and said jestingly, 'Where
do you mean to take a house, and how would you furnish it?'

'In the suburbs; and as for furnishing, we could do that on the
hire-system. It shall have a garden and a lawn and a tree--I must have a
tree; it's so ideal to sit and have tea in the garden under a tree, or
read a book in a canvas-chair on a summer's day,' replied Eva.

'I don't care for the hire-system, and houses with gardens and lawns and
trees are not to be found in London. I am afraid we must wait until we
are old ladies, and can retire on our savings and live in some little
country village,' said Amy, laying her hand upon Eva's and smiling at
her.

Possibly the conversation would have ended here but for Vava, and
something that she said. 'But couldn't we have a little house in an
unfashionable part? All the girls at school have houses or flats of
their own; it would be so nice to have a home.'

'So we will have a home. Why shouldn't we? Lots of families live on two
hundred pounds a year, and that would be a pound a week each. Why, the
Smiths are a family of five, and they have only about two hundred, and
they have a garden and an arbour covered with ivy and creepers and
things!' cried Eva.

'Oh where is that?' asked Vava eagerly, her eyes shining.

'My dear Eva!' protested Amy, looking apologetically at Stella, who was
very grave and silent.

'Well, what is the matter?' demanded Eva.

'You do talk such nonsense. How can four people, who are strangers to
each other, suddenly take a house and live together? Why, we do not even
know each other's names!' said Amy, laughing.

'My name is Eva Barnes, and this is my greatest and best friend, Amy
Overall,' said Eva promptly; and then, turning to Vava, she added,
'Let's talk it over by ourselves; old people are always cautious,' and
she and Vava began to talk in low tones. Presently Eva took out a pencil
and note-book, and began making elaborate calculations.

The two 'elders' smiled at them. They were not more than twenty-one and
twenty-four respectively; but they let the younger ones whisper nonsense
together, while they talked of books; and Stella found that Amy Overall
had read the same sort of books that she had, which surprised her, for
hers had been chosen for her by her literary father.

'My father was a professor at Cambridge, and that is why I have read
these books,' explained Amy, delighted to find some one whose tastes
were congenial; in fact, it is to be doubted which of the two was most
pleased.

They were so interested in discussing a certain author that they took
little notice of the other two. Every now and then a low laugh told them
that the two younger girls were enjoying themselves as much as the 'old
people,' as they called their elders.

'Now,' cried Eva, 'let us lay a statement of accounts before them!'

The elders stopped in their conversation, and looked at Eva and Vava,
whose faces were flushed with excitement, and whose eyes were dancing as
Stella had not seen Vava's dance since she left Lomore, not even on
their motor drive.

Amy took the sheet of paper Eva handed her, saying, 'Eva is a great
mathematician; she takes after her father.'

'Barnes! Did he write an arithmetic?' inquired Vava; and when Eva
nodded, she added, 'Why, I use it at school!'

'What accounts have you been making out?' asked Stella in a friendly
tone, for this last fact seemed a link between them as the daughters of
literary men.

'Our new house and its expenses,' announced Vava.

Amy looked half-fearfully at Stella, for she thought she would be
annoyed at the girl's persistence; but, to her surprise, Stella read the
paper through with apparent interest.

'Rent, £34; taxes, £12; food, £90; firing and gas, £20; servant, £12;
washing, £12, extras, £20--total, £200,' she read out.

'That's only the summary of it; here are the details. We have made out a
menu for a week and washing for four people and household linen,'
explained Eva.

'It is a step which requires consideration; we might not care for each
other's company on closer acquaintance,' said Stella.

But Vava interrupted impulsively, 'We have arranged for that; we would
have two sitting-rooms, and only come together when we liked; and,
anyway, they couldn't be as disagreeable as our landlady. Fancy, she
won't cook in the evenings, and she always wants to know if we are not
going out to friends on Sunday, and it makes us feel as if we ought to
go somewhere out of her way.'

Stella did not quite like Vava's frankness. Seeing which, Amy hastened
to say, 'That was our experience in lodgings, and one of the reasons we
gave them up. It is very difficult to know what to do; but at Bleak
House we have not that difficulty. I should like you to see it. Would
you'--here she hesitated and coloured--'would you and your sister give
us the pleasure of your company to-morrow? We are so many that a few
more make no difference, and we are encouraged to bring our friends.'

It would have been difficult to refuse an invitation so diffidently
given; besides, Stella liked Amy Overall, and Vava's eyes were begging
her to say 'Yes,' and she did so, and was rewarded by the evident
pleasure which she had given every one.

'Stella, couldn't we do it, don't you think?' pleaded Vava on the way
home.

'Take a house, do you mean? I don't know, Vava; we may some day--who
knows?--but not yet awhile,' replied Stella, who was anxious not to damp
her sister's delight in these castles in the air.

'If you only knew how horrid it is to hear the other girls talking of
going home; they have all got homes but me,' said Vava wistfully.

Stella tried to comfort her, and began to talk of their visit next day,
and of how they could get there after church, and Vava cheered up at the
thought of a day with Eva, who was so little older than she that they
got on very well together.

Amy meanwhile was taking Eva to task. 'You surely were not serious; and,
if not, do you think it was kind to raise hopes and put ideas which can
never be realised into that child's head?' she demanded severely.

'I was quite serious; it was a sudden inspiration, and, mark my words,
it will be realised!' declared Eva.

'Not by me; I am not going to run into all sorts of expenses which a
house always entails,' said Amy.

'Now, isn't that funny? It is always the unexpected that happens; one
would have expected the cautious Scotch Miss Wharton to be the one to
make objections, whereas she is inclined to risk it--I could see that in
the corner of her eye--and you are the timid one,' declared Eva.

'On the contrary, Miss Wharton was only too polite to crush you. When
she says she's ready to take a house with us I shall certainly be ready
to agree,' replied Amy Overall, feeling certain that she would not be
asked to do so.

'All right; that's a promise of which I shall remind you before long,
you will see,' said Eva; and then talked of the morrow and what they
should do with their visitors.




CHAPTER X.

BLEAK HOUSE HOSTEL.


'What are we going to do with those two girls to-day, Amy?' demanded Eva
at breakfast, which, being Sunday, they were having late.

'Entertain them,' responded Amy.

'Don't be tiresome; you know quite well what I mean. What are we to do
to entertain them? They will get here at half-past twelve, after they
have been to church. We can't go to church in the afternoon; besides, we
don't know what kind of church they go to, and dinner can't last longer
than a quarter to two, because the servants like to have the tables all
cleared by two o'clock, and I suppose they won't go away till after tea
at four o'clock,' argued Eva.

'I hope they won't go away until after supper. I want them to have a
nice day; they are very lonely, Eva. You know what we felt like when we
first came to town, and how we determined we would always be friendly to
other lonely girls from the country, and I thought you liked the Misses
Wharton so much that you wanted to live with them!' cried Amy Overall in
surprise at this change of front.

'That's just it, I do want to live with them; at least I want to have a
house to myself again.'

'A house to yourself! Is that your latest? That is more ridiculous than
your last idea, and still less likely to come about,' said Amy.

'It is the same idea. I call it "to myself," with only three others in
it, especially when I am part-owner; and the reason I don't want the
Whartons to stay too long to-day is for fear that they should be bored,
and find that we are not their sort, and not want to take a house with
us after all,' explained Eva.

'Well, really, Eva, your way of looking at things does surprise me
sometimes; and I hope you won't be angry, but it does not always seem to
me to be quite straight.'

'What isn't quite straight?' demanded Eva, flushing up.

Amy was a little slow in expressing herself; but she said hesitatingly,
'I mean that it would be honest, in my opinion, to face facts, and if we
were likely to bore each other to find it out before we entered upon a
plan which would throw us together for a great many Sundays as well as
other days.'

'That is quite a different thing. We shall not have to entertain each
other for a whole day; we shall go our own ways, and read books, or
write letters; but we can't ask the Misses Wharton to read books to-day,
and one can't talk for hours together--at least I can't; perhaps you
can, as you are so very righteous,' retorted Eva, who was annoyed.

'I thought we might go to a picture-gallery after dinner, and then come
back for tea and a talk, and there is always some nice music here in the
evening,' suggested Amy, taking no notice of Eva's last remark.

Eva recovered her temper as quickly as she lost it. 'That will be a good
plan; but--they are Scotch, and I don't believe they allow music on
Sundays,' she suddenly bethought herself.

'You are thinking of that story we read the other day. Those were strict
people; I don't believe the Whartons are like that.' But she looked
rather doubtful.

Eva smiled wickedly. 'So perhaps, after all, we shall have to talk all
the time.'

'I don't think Miss Wharton and I will get tired of each other, even if
such a dreadful thing happened as our being obliged to entertain each
other for a few hours,' said Amy calmly.

But when the Whartons came it turned out that they had no objection to
music nor to a picture-gallery, provided they had been to church first.

Vava and Eva paired off, and the latter began at once, 'Tell me, are you
as sick of lodgings as ever?'

'Yes, of course; I should never like them. But why do you ask?' demanded
Vava, who looked so pretty in her prettily made Sunday-frock that Eva
was more than ever attracted to her.

'Because Amy and I have decided that we are quite ready if you two are,'
said Eva.

Vava flushed with pleasure. 'Really? Then Miss Overall doesn't think it
a mad idea? Stella did not believe you were serious, or that Miss
Overall would like it; but if she does I shouldn't wonder if Stella
would agree to doing it. She said it might be possible some day; but not
yet, of course.'

'Some day may mean years hence, when we are all dead, or too old to
enjoy a garden of our own. Just fancy sowing flower-seeds and watching
them growing every day, and having our own vegetables! We could have
salad every evening in the summer, and lettuces freshly picked from a
dear little bed!' urged Eva.

Vava listened with growing enthusiasm. 'It would be almost like home
again. I have grown radishes in my little garden, because nursie liked
them for tea. If only nursie were with us I should be quite happy, I
think!' she exclaimed.

The two younger girls were in Eva's little bedroom, taking off Vava's
outdoor things, a process which they had prolonged so as to talk
confidentially together. Stella Wharton and Amy Overall, on the
contrary, had long since gone down to the big drawing-room, where about
thirty girls of various ages were sitting about, reading or talking.

It seemed to Stella, who was not used to crowds, that the babel was
terrific, and Amy, seeing this, rose, saying, 'If you don't mind staying
here alone for a few minutes I will ask the housekeeper to let us have a
private sitting-room for an hour or so? We can talk better there.'

Amy had arranged for the private sitting-room, and was just going to
tell Vava and Eva that there was no need for them to sit in a cold
bedroom, when Eva appeared in the passage.

'I was just coming to you, Amy. I want to speak to you alone for a
moment,' said Eva hurriedly, taking her friend's arm; and, turning back
with her to the latter's room, she added, 'What do you think, Amy, the
Whartons are quite ready to start housekeeping if only you will, and as
they are cautious Scotch people it's sure to be all right!'

'Who told you that, Eva? You mean that Vava is quite ready, don't you? I
can scarcely believe that Miss Wharton, who really seems a very
thoughtful, serious person, has said she is ready to start a house with
strangers. It seems incredible!' objected Amy, and she looked rather
curiously at Eva.

'There's nothing so incredible in wanting to live in a house instead of
horrid lodgings. They are miserable where they are, and jump at the
thought of making other arrangements, which they can only do if you chum
with them. And, after all, what's all the fuss and caution about? What
is there so very serious in taking a little house for a year? Of course
we may get tired of it and each other, though I don't think that likely;
but twelve months is not so long to put up with what we don't like, and,
anyway, it will be great fun at first. What is your objection now?'
demanded Eva, who poured out all this eloquence so rapidly and
energetically as to overwhelm the slow-thinking Amy.

'It's--it's not such a light or easy matter, Eva. There are the weekly
bills to be thought of, and the furnishing, and the rent, and a servant,
and--oh! a hundred things,' wound up the elder girl, with knitted brows.

'The weekly bills won't come to more than we can pay weekly, and as for
a servant--what do we want with one? We will each do our own room before
we start, and we are out all day, and only sleep there, except on
Saturday and Sunday; and then, among the four of us, surely we can
manage a little house. We will lead the simple life; every one is
talking about the simple life, and how one goes in for too many luxuries
and is over-civilised, and we will just go back to primitive ways. Now,
Amy, be a Christian and say "Yes." You are always telling me that one
must be self-sacrificing in this world; sacrifice yourself, and make
those two lonely girls happy, to say nothing of me, who am stifled in
this crowded barracks of a place,' declared Eva.

Eva did not look very stifled, and in justice to the ladies' hostel it
should be stated that it was not in the least crowded or stifling; this
was a mere figure of speech on Eva's part, who, as will have been seen,
was apt to turn things round to suit herself. She was only sixteen; very
young to be thrown upon the world and her own resources. With the
exception of Amy, she was unfortunately not under very good influences,
and when she wanted to believe a thing was true she generally managed to
do so, and though she would have scorned to tell a lie she made things
appear to be what she wished them to be. At any rate, she managed to
deceive both Vava and Amy, and make each of them believe that consent
had been given on both sides; and, as unfortunately often happened, she
succeeded in getting her own way.

However, for the moment there was no talk about future plans; it would
not have been possible in the public dining-room, and almost immediately
after early dinner the four went off to the Tate Gallery, and the talk
turned upon pictures, and Eva noticed with satisfaction that the elders
were getting on famously.

'Do you know what I have been thinking?' inquired Eva of Vava.

They were standing before a picture by Burne-Jones as she said this.
Vava replied promptly, 'I don't know, unless it is that the ladies in
this picture have all got the same mouths.'

'Oh the picture! I wasn't thinking about it at all; I don't care very
much for art. Amy does, and she is always dragging me here with her, so
that I know them all by heart, and am quite sick of them. No, what I was
thinking was that those two are getting on A1, and that it's all
providential!' announced Eva.

Vava looked puzzled for a minute, and then laughed as she said, 'You
mean that it is providential that they like one another? Then, I
suppose, it's providential that we get on together, or that any one ever
likes any one else?'

'I mean that, as we want to live together, it's a good thing we suit
each other,' replied Eva.

'Oh but that may not be for a long time; still, we can be friends, can't
we?' asked Vava.

'Yes, but why need it be a long time? Your sister is quite ready; so is
Amy'----she began.

But Vava interrupted her in surprise. 'Stella quite ready! To take a
house with you, do you mean? Oh is she really?'

'Why, of course she is! Didn't you tell me so?' cried Eva.

'I?' replied Vava, in such tones of astonishment that Eva coloured up.

'You certainly said that if Amy would agree your sister would, and that
she thought it a good idea. And as Amy does agree--why, your sister will
too,' she affirmed.

Eva had quite persuaded herself that the two elder girls were ready, and
that it only needed some keeping up to the mark on her part to bring the
new plan about.

Vava was quite silent for a time; she was very impulsive and outspoken,
but she was also very straightforward, and somehow it struck her that
Eva's speech was not so. In spite of her impulsiveness, she could on
occasion hold her peace, and she did so now.

'Of course, if you've changed your mind, and don't care so much for me,
now that you know me better, that ends the matter; we must go on living
in our barracks, and you in your dirty lodgings!' Eva cried, vexed at
Vava's silence.

Vava was half-inclined to be angry at Eva's plain speaking; but, after
all, the lodgings were dirty, and it was she herself who had told Eva
so, and, besides, it was rather flattering to be wanted as a house-mate.
So she forgot her suspicion as to Eva's truthfulness, and answered
heartily enough, 'I do want to live with you, and I am just as tired of
our dirty lodgings as you can be of your hostel, which is ever so much
nicer than where we live, if only there wasn't such a noise all the time
with people talking all at the one time. And as for Stella, I'm sorry if
I gave you the wrong idea. She is not one to make up her mind in a
hurry--we Scotch never are, I think; but I will try and persuade her.'

Eva said no more; privately she thought her own persuasion would be more
powerful. They were now called by the other two to come with them, as
the gallery was just closing.

'And I haven't seen half the pictures!' exclaimed Vava.

'Never mind; I will bring you again another day,' said Stella, smiling;
and Vava thought she had not seen her look so bright and happy since
they had left Lomore.

'We might make it our next Saturday treat,' agreed Vava.

'We had another plan for Saturday,' replied Stella, smiling again in a
half-ashamed manner.

'Another treat? Are we going anywhere all together?' Vava inquired,
looking from Stella to Amy.

'We are going house-hunting,' announced Amy, who looked pleased at the
demonstration of delight the announcement called forth.

'House-hunting?' echoed Vava, while Eva gave a little cry of delight;
then, having got over their surprise, the two younger girls began asking
eager questions.

'We have not made our calculations yet; but we are going to have a
council of war, or rather of peace, at the Enterprise Club next week to
talk things over. At any rate, we can just go and look at some little
houses in a suburb which Miss Overall thinks possible,' Stella observed.

There was little else talked of till they parted; and Amy said after
they were gone, 'I hope I have done right. Miss Wharton did not seem
quite so ready when I spoke to her. I suppose upon reflection her Scotch
caution came to the fore, and indeed I am half-frightened myself; but
their gratitude at our being so friendly was reward enough for running a
little risk, and we are not pledged to anything even now,' she wound up.

'Oh but you mustn't draw back; you are really doing a kind deed, and it
will turn out splendidly, you will see!' cried Eva quickly.

Vava meanwhile walked home with her sister in the gayest of spirits, and
yet a doubt would keep coming into her mind. Hadn't Eva rather managed
them all, and hadn't she rather twisted what she (Vava) had said? Then
the remembrance of Eva's affectionate parting made her ashamed of her
doubts, and she banished them from her mind.

'Anyway, we sha'n't get tired of them, for we have spent a whole day
doing nothing but talk to each other, and if you can do that you can
spend your whole life with any one nearly; at any rate, you can live in
the same house, especially when you are all out in separate parts all
the day,' opined Vava.

'We can but try; and, at any rate, it is not settled, and I shall do
nothing without consulting Mr. Stacey,' declared Stella as they said
good-night to each other.




CHAPTER XI.

'THE RANK IS BUT THE GUINEA'S STAMP.'


'Hallo, Vava!' said a voice behind her, as Vava Wharton was on her way
to school a few days after the Sunday she and her sister had spent at
the ladies' hostel.

There was no doubt as to the speaker, for this was Doreen Hackney's
invariable greeting, and, as usual, Vava turned and said pleasantly,
'Good-morning, Doreen.'

'What's the row--matter, I mean? You look down in the dumps. I say, are
you moping for the country? You don't seem to be half the girl you were
when you first came; you don't make any jokes, and when I meet you in
the morning you have a face as long as a fiddle,' remarked Doreen in her
loud, cheerful tones.

'I was only thinking. I didn't know my face was long. We are thinking of
moving--into a house, my sister and I--and I was thinking about that,
and I suppose it made me look grave,' explained Vava.

'What on earth is there to be grave about in that? You haven't got
anything to do with the moving, have you? We moved last year, and it
didn't make me grave till mother said I'd got to burn some of what she
called my "rubbish." I think it's rather fun moving; you have all new
wall-papers and a new garden, and it makes a change. Where are you going
to move to?' inquired Doreen.

'Oh I don't know; we haven't got a house yet. I believe we are going to
look at one in Blackstead,' said Vava.

'Blackstead! That's where we live. There are some nice houses there;
cheap too, because it is not a fashionable suburb. I hope you will come
there, because then you and I can come to school together--that is, if
your sister would not mind. Mother says I am not to push myself into
your society, because you are a lady; and I'm very rough, I know.
Mother's always telling me about my manners; she says I talk so loud and
laugh so loud. I wish you would tell me about it when I do; you talk so
soft and ladylike,' observed Doreen.

Vava laughed. 'I! Why, the girls couldn't understand me when I first
came,' she protested.

'Oh well, there were some words you used that we'd never heard before,
but I like it now. I say, if you do move our way I wish you'd let me
help,' Doreen said very earnestly, for she concluded that it was the
moving which was causing Vava to look so worried.

'Thank you,' said Vava, and laughed.

'It won't be so bad, you know; the men move so cleverly now, mother
says; you start in the morning, and in the evening you are all to
rights. I dare say when you get back from school you'll find it quite
shipshape, and even if you're not you can sleep the night at our place;
so don't you worry about that,' said Doreen.

'It's not that at all; I don't care if we are not shipshape for a week;
it's the girls we are going to take a house with that are worrying
me--if I am worrying, as you say,' replied Vava.

Then Vava told her the story of their plan, and finished up by saying,
'I don't quite like Eva--at least I can't help liking her, because she
is so lively and such fun to talk to, and she has been awfully nice to
us; but I feel as if I can't quite believe in her somehow. And if we are
going to live together we shall have to be friends.'

Doreen whistled, and then seeing that Vava looked a little put out at
her schoolfellow's manners, and the attention they attracted in the
street, she apologised, saying in a lower tone, 'Beg your pardon, but
I'm sorry for what you tell me, because there's nothing so horrid as to
have to do with any one that is not quite straight. Why don't you
believe in her? Doesn't she tell the truth?'

'I--I don't know; I don't like to say anything against her, because she
is very nice to me, and seems to like me, and she has never told me a
real story. But it's the things she says, they make me feel
uncomfortable. And yet I do so want to live in a house again, and we can
only do it if we chum with them!'

'Well, you needn't see much of her even if you live in the same house;
you'll be out all day, and so will she, and you will have your lessons
and practising in the evenings. After all, they're only new friends;
they can't expect you to live as if you were one family, and--and you
know I'm straight--if you do come to Blackstead we might do our lessons
together?' suggested Doreen, by way of comforting Vava.

But, as it happened, it had not quite the desired effect; for, much
though Vava liked Doreen, she remembered her sister's resolution that if
they could not have friends of their own class they would have none; and
as she declined to know the Montague Joneses she would certainly not
have anything to do with the Hackneys. However, that was not a thing she
could say to Doreen; and, as she did not want to throw cold water on her
kindness, she said, 'Thank you, you are kind, and of course you are
straight, and I am very glad you are my chum, especially in school; out
of school Stella is my chum.'

'Yes, of course, and a jolly good one too,' said Doreen heartily; and if
she guessed that Vava meant that they would _not_ see much of each other
out of school, she did not show it, but observed, 'And you know, even if
that Eva is not always quite square in her way of looking at things, you
can do her good.'

'Miss Briggs said the other day that "evil communications corrupt good
manners," and that if a girl's conversation made us feel uncomfortable,
or feel that we should not like our parents to hear it, we were to shun
her as we should the plague,' observed Vava.

'I know she did, but I don't agree with her,' remarked Doreen calmly.

Vava looked at Doreen in astonishment. She often questioned her sister's
authority, but not Miss Briggs's, who was a very clever young mistress.
'Do you mean that if a girl isn't nice you don't care?' she asked.

'No, I mean that you ought to make her shut up. Sometimes a girl talks
rot because she is silly; but you can soon stop her, and if one were to
avoid every one who did or said anything wrong, why one might as well
live in a desert island. Look at Belle Reed! You couldn't believe a word
that girl said when she first came to our school; but she soon dropped
it when she found we couldn't stand liars.'

Doreen had got interested in what she was saying, and unconsciously
raised her voice, and one of the mistresses who happened to pass at the
moment turned and looked with disapproval at her. She then glanced at
her companion, and looked still more displeased.

'That is not very nice language for the street, Doreen,' she said
severely.

'Bother! That was Miss Briggs! Why need she have passed at that
particular minute?' observed the girl.

'Why need you talk so loudly?' remarked Vava. Then they both passed into
school, and thought no more about it.

But next morning at breakfast Stella received a letter which seemed to
annoy her a good deal, and she said to Vava, 'I hear you have made
friends with an undesirable girl at school.'

'I suppose you mean Doreen; but why should you say you "hear" it?
There's no need for you to go to other people to hear what I do, or what
friends I have; I always tell you what happens at school, and I thought
you liked Doreen Hackney. Of course I know she is not very ladylike
outwardly, but she is agreeable,' said Vava, championing her friend
rather hotly.

'Doreen Hackney? Is that the girl I spoke to the other day?' asked
Stella, referring to the letter and looking puzzled.

'Yes, that is her name. Who has been writing against her to you? Why
can't people mind their own business?' cried Vava.

'Vava, do not speak so rudely, or I shall think what I am told is true.
It is Miss Briggs, who says she is not an improving companion for you,
and that her language is very vulgar. But I can't believe you could
learn harm from that girl; she has such a nice, open face,' said Stella.

'So she has. All she said was that she couldn't stand liars, and I
suppose that shocked Miss Briggs; but I believe in calling a spade a
spade,' announced Vava.

'You are not to call people liars, and you had better tell Doreen that I
object to such strong language; there is no need for it. It is quite
enough to say "an untruth." I hope Doreen was not calling any one
names?' inquired Stella.

'No, only people in general,' said Vava.

Stella laughed. 'Well, tell her not to do so in future.' But she did not
say anything about her being an undesirable friend for Vava, to the
latter's relief. Stella opened her next letter, which happened to be
from the house-agent at Blackstead, and this interested her so much that
she forgot about Doreen and her strong language.

'There is a house at Blackstead which sounds ideal, Vava. Listen: "Four
bedrooms, three reception-rooms, kitchen, bath (h. and c.), and garden
with fruit-trees--forty pounds, but perhaps less to a good tenant, as
the landlord lives next door and is very particular about his
neighbours, and has refused good 'lets' already,"' Stella read out.

She was the least busy of the four, and the only one with capital, so it
had been decided that she should do the correspondence, and by Mr.
Stacey's advice she was to take the house in her own name, as 'you can
then get rid of your new acquaintances if you wish, and you will be
responsible for the rent, or rather I will, which your landlord will
prefer, as I hold your securities.'

'Do you know, Stella, I have come to the conclusion that people never do
what you expect them to do; anyway, you and Mr. Stacey don't,' announced
Vava when she heard Mr. Stacey's advice.

'I don't? What have I done or not done that you expected?' said Stella,
amused at Vava's moralising, though she understood and agreed with her
surprise at Mr. Stacey's ready approval of their taking a small house,
instead of remaining in lodgings; it did not seem like his usual caution
nor the advice he gave them before they left Lomore.

'You don't disapprove of Doreen, though she is not a lady and a little
rough sometimes and loud in her way of speaking in the street, so that I
feel ashamed at the attention she attracts, though I like her most
awfully; and yet you don't like the Montague Joneses, who behave quite
like a lady and gentleman; and now Mr. Stacey, who was so horrid,
telling us we must go into poky lodgings and be saving, quite approves
of our taking a house with some people we don't know very well! It's
rather funny of him, but I believe I know the reason,' announced Vava,
nodding her head.

Stella thought she knew too, but her guess was a different one to
Vava's. She imagined that her remarks about her younger sister's
flagging health and spirits influenced the old lawyer, as well as the
fact at which he hinted that their income would be a little larger than
he anticipated, thanks to the sum paid for the hire of their furniture
and a rise in some shares. Whereas Vava had an idea that the Montague
Joneses were somehow at the bottom of his change of front; but neither
imparted her opinion to the other, and Stella did not ask Vava for hers,
because she was occupied with thoughts of the new scheme.

The Montague Joneses had called on a wet Saturday afternoon, having
chosen that time as very likely to find them at home; but the Misses
Wharton were at the Enterprise Club, and came home to find their
visitors' cards.

'Such a nice lady and gentleman and such a splendid car; they are grand
friends for you to have,' the landlady said.

Stella made no reply, but passed on to her own little sitting-room.

Vava looked wistfully at Stella, but the latter did not catch the look,
or she might have spoken otherwise. 'We must leave cards in return; but
I shall not go on their "At Home" day,' she said.

Vava did not argue. She had known they were going to call; but if Stella
had made up her mind it was no use arguing, and the thought of the ideal
house, with a garden and fruit-trees, was consoling her for many things.
Besides, old Mr. Montague Jones had told her on one of their expeditions
while coming south that he meant to be their friend by hook or by crook,
sooner or later. 'And what Monty Jones means comes to pass, as most
people have found, and as you will find,' he had said as he patted
Vava's arm kindly; and Vava had faith in the old man's word.

However, there was no chance of their being friends at present, as she
saw, for she and Stella duly called on the wrong day, and Mrs. Jones
was, according to the gorgeous footman who opened the door, 'not at
home,' at which news Stella smiled in a satisfied way, and remarked, 'We
have done our duty, and that ends the matter!'

It did not end the matter, as will be seen; but it was some time, and
after other events had taken place, before the Whartons met their kind
friends again.




CHAPTER XII.

'SAVE.'


'I have made such a wonderful discovery,' observed Eva to Stella
Wharton, as she sat with the Wharton sisters and Amy Overall at the
little table which was now left by common consent for these four friends
at the Enterprise Club.

Miss Wharton rather liked Eva, who was bright and amusing, and her frank
liking for the sisters flattered the lonely Scotch girl. Moreover,
Stella was not so good a judge of character as her younger sister, and
did not notice a want of candour in the girl. So she smiled and said
pleasantly, 'Well, what is this wonderful discovery?'

'It is a motto. Vava says they have a special motto each term at her
school, and I found a motto for our new house, and it is formed by our
four names,' explained Eva.

The other three all looked interested, and Vava asked, 'How do you mean?
By jumbling all the letters up? Because "Wharton, Overall, Barnes" does
not make much sense.'

'No, but we might get something out of those names, such as "Union over
all ills," or something of that kind. Let's try and work it out!'
exclaimed Eva, whose mind turned easily from one subject to another. In
a moment she had her note-book open, and was setting down all the
letters of Wharton and Barnes to try and make suitable words out of
them.

But the other stopped her, and Amy said, 'Let us hear your motto first,
Eva; we have not too much time to waste, and, after all, a motto is not
a very important thing.'

'Oh my motto--I forgot; _it_ is a very important thing--it is "Save,"'
she answered.

This remark was received with silence, and then the elder Miss Wharton
said, with hesitation, 'I don't quite understand. Save whom or what?'

'Save money,' replied Eva.

'That's all very well as a precept; but what has that to do with our
names, and how did you make that out of them?' demanded Amy.

'It's a very good motto; but never mind about it. I have got a better
one; it is "Live and let live,"' put in Vava hastily.

Stella looked reprovingly at her sister, and said with grave politeness,
'I don't know that it is better; but Miss Barnes was going to explain to
us how she got our names down to make "Save." That is a result of a
mathematical mind; perhaps she can reduce even names to their lowest
common denominator.' Stella's strong point was not mathematics, nor
indeed was she very quick at any subject; though her knowledge was solid
and reliable on the subjects she had studied.

'It's easy enough--S A V E, the initials of Stella, Amy, Vava, Eva,'
said Eva airily.

Stella coloured, but said nothing. Amy, after looking at her, said, 'How
absurd you are, Eva! Besides, you should not take liberties with other
people's names.'

Then, seeing that Eva looked very crestfallen, Stella repented her of
the proud reserve which had made her resent this same liberty, and said,
'It may be a good omen; and, after all, it is my motto for the present.'

Vava looked relieved, and remarked, 'It's funny that you are the first
to "save" or in "Save."'

'I wish you would all begin to save time,' remonstrated Amy. 'We have so
much to talk over and arrange, and we have only these meetings at the
club for the purpose.'

So the four young heads drew closer together as they talked over ways
and means, and argued and calculated, till a hasty movement by Eva, who
was the most enthusiastic of the four, was followed by a loud clatter on
the floor, which made them all start.

'I'm sorry; it's only my frying-pan,' she said, as she dived under the
table and brought out a parcel, off which the brown paper had fallen,
disclosing to view a large iron frying-pan.

Stella opened her beautiful eyes wide as she looked at it in wonder. Amy
only smiled; but Vava, impulsive as usual, exclaimed, 'What are you
doing with that old frying-pan? Do you have to cook your own dinner in
your office?'

'I should think not, indeed! I should like to see our boss's face if we
started making smells like that; besides, we don't need to; we get very
good lunches at this club,' cried Eva, trying to pack the despised
frying-pan up again in the paper; a futile attempt, as the wrapping was
all torn.

'Then what on earth are you carrying such a thing about with you for?'
demanded Amy, looking half-annoyed and half-amused.

'I brought it to show you all; it is for the new house!' she exclaimed
triumphantly.

'Which we have not got yet,' put in Amy.

'But it's old--old and dirty,' objected Vava, who had been looking at it
with disgust.

'That's only rust; it will clean off. I got it for threepence at an
East-End market; it is a tremendous bargain, and is the beginning of our
"save"--pots and pans are a most expensive item in house-furnishing; and
I am going to undertake that part of it myself, and get one article each
day. There was a splendid big iron kettle, with a hole in it, for
sixpence'----she said.

But a chorus of laughter stopped her in her list of bargains.

'I don't think I care about eating things fried in a pan coming from an
East-End market,' remarked Vava.

'And I don't see much good in a kettle with a hole in it,' said Stella;
but instead of being shocked, as Vava evidently was, she seemed rather
amused.

'It can easily be mended with solder, and sixpence is dirt-cheap for a
large iron kettle,' observed Eva.

'I should call it "cheap dirt," if you will excuse the bad joke; and,
seriously, Eva, it is very foolish spending your money on such rubbish;
shillings soon run away in that manner, and we want all our spare
shillings just now,' protested Amy Overall.

'You are an ungrateful set,' said Eva; but she put the frying-pan out of
sight, and listened seriously while the two elder girls talked over the
different houses proposed, and Miss Wharton said finally, 'The only one
that really suits is this one at Heather Road, Blackstead.'

'Then let us go there first,' agreed Amy.

'I expect the name attracted you, Miss Wharton,' said Eva, with a
twinkle in her eye.

Stella laughed. 'It is an attractive name to us; but I am not so foolish
as that, I hope; and it has fruit-trees in the garden, which do attract
me, and I thought would attract you,' she replied.

'So they do, and it sounds too good to be true. Forty pounds, and the
man would come down to thirty-eight. Let's go there on Saturday,' agreed
Eva.

'There is one thing that I wanted to say,' observed Stella, looking a
little uncomfortable, 'and that is, that I--I mean we--would rather have
a very little furniture at first, and get it by degrees. We only need a
bed and a washstand in our bedroom, and we have only enough money to
furnish a sitting-room and half what is necessary for the kitchen and
hall.'

'Oh but you need not worry about that. We can furnish on the
hire-system; they will let you have any amount!' cried Eva.

'I would rather not,' persisted Stella.

Amy looked grave. 'I don't see how we are to manage without hiring, and
I don't think our landlord would feel satisfied if we had no furniture
to speak of, and I have only ten pounds to spend, and Eva has less, I
believe.'

'I should think that the landlord would be better satisfied if we did
not run into debt,' said Stella.

'I'd sooner go to a workhouse than live in a room with only a bed and a
washstand! Where would you hang your clothes or keep your linen? Why, it
would not be a home at all,' protested Eva.

'Of course I did not mean to dictate to you,' said Stella hastily; 'but
Vava and I will be quite satisfied with a comfortable sitting-room, and
we shall receive the landlord there, not in our bedroom,' she added with
a smile.

'That is true, and as long as we have pretty curtains and blinds there
is no need to furnish completely at once; besides, we have nearly two
months to quarter-day, and we can save a few pounds if we are very
economical,' agreed Amy.

'We will save in advance,' agreed Eva; but on the way home she observed
to her friend Amy, 'Those two Wharton girls are as narrow-minded as
possible, and I am going to have a proper suite in my room, whatever
they say; I should never feel comfortable unless I had looked at myself
in a long glass before I went out.'

'I think they are right, and I shall not get anything I cannot pay for,'
announced Amy.

'Well! you are easily led; but you won't lead me, for I am not going to
be the talk of the neighbours because we have no decent furniture. I
shall get a handsome satinwood bedroom suite, and that will give a tone
to the place at any rate,' said Eva.

Amy laughed, but did not try to turn the girl, who, in spite of being
only sixteen years old, was very determined in her opinions; and as
unfortunately she was an orphan and independent of every one, it was not
easy to control her, and her friend had always found it better to leave
her alone until she had cooled down a little in her enthusiasm for
anything, and then reason with her, and this she hoped to do now. So no
more was said about buying furniture, about which it would be folly to
think until the house had been taken and they knew the size of the rooms
and other details.

The next day, when Vava left her sister at the usual point in the City,
she saw Doreen Hackney coming up out of the Metropolitan Station. She
came up by the train arriving at 9.20, and as the Whartons were very
punctual, and arrived at this time, they almost invariably met her; but
this morning, although she was almost certain Doreen had seen her, the
latter walked on without turning her head.

But Vava knew Doreen too well to believe she did not wish to see her,
and ran after her. 'Doreen! Doreen! wait a minute!' she panted. At the
sound of her voice, Doreen stopped and apologised for having made her
run. 'Are you blind? Didn't you see me when you came out of the
station?' cried Vava.

Doreen gave her a very funny look. 'Yes-s,' she said hesitatingly; and
then, seeing Vava's look of astonishment, she added lamely, 'I was in a
hurry to get to school.'

'How absurd; we have plenty of time, and I want to tell you something.
We are perhaps going to live at Blackstead, for we have heard of a
lovely little house there with a garden and fruit-trees--at least, so
the agent says, though Stella says it may only be a tiny apple-tree,
with no apples on it, because they always exaggerate in advertisements,'
observed Vava.

'Oh but there are fruit-trees--apples and pears and plums!' exclaimed
Doreen, and then stopped abruptly.

'Are there such gardens in London suburbs? But there may not be in this
one. Do you know the part--it is Heather Road, Blackstead?'

'Oh yes, I know it,' said Doreen in rather a reserved tone.

Vava had been so full of her news that she had not noticed Doreen's
manner, or rather had put it down to discomfort at having been rude in
not stopping for her; but it struck her at last that her friend was not
like herself, and she asked suddenly, 'What is the matter, Doreen?'

'Nothing--nothing,' said Doreen hastily.

'Then what do you know about the house? Isn't it in a nice part?'
inquired Vava, as a thought struck her.

'Oh yes, the part is all right; it's very open; you will like it very
much if you come, and I do hope you will,' said Doreen so cordially that
Vava was relieved.

'I hope we shall, then. Is it very far from you?' inquired Vava.

No; it's--it's quite near. But, you know, in London one need not know
one's next-door neighbour unless one likes. We never said anything more
than "Good-morning!" to the people we lived next door to for three
years. Mother is not one of those who is always talking over the wall to
her neighbour; so you need not be afraid of that,' observed Doreen.

'But we don't mind knowing our next-door neighbour; in fact, we shall
know him, because he is our landlord, and a very honest, nice man, the
agent says; not educated'----

'Vava, was that the bell?' interrupted Doreen abruptly.

Doreen's manners were certainly very bad, and Vava said severely, 'You
are rude, Doreen, and if I did not know you I should think you took no
interest in our new house.'

'I do, and I hope very much you will come to Heather Road; I know you
will like it and be happy there.'

'Where do you live? We may pass your house to-morrow, because we are
going to Heather Road to look at this house, and I will look out for you
in case you are at the window,' said Vava.

To Vava's astonishment, Doreen did not answer her, but appeared not to
have heard, and called out in her loud way to two girls who were on the
other side of the road. It took a good deal to offend Vava, but this
morning she felt decidedly ruffled; and as she did not particularly care
for the new-comers, she walked on alone in a slightly aggrieved mood.

But Doreen seemed quite unconscious of having given offence in the
morning, and was more attentive and friendly than usual to Vava as they
walked down the road after school. When she said good-bye to her at the
Metropolitan Station she called after her, 'I say, I do hope you'll come
to Heather Road; you'll like it awfully, I know.'

But when Vava turned round to reply, no Doreen was to be seen; she had
disappeared into the station. Vava, recounting the tale to her sister,
observed, 'She has such bad manners, but she doesn't mean it.'

'Perhaps she had to run to catch her train?' suggested Stella.

'Oh no, she hadn't; she always has ten minutes to wait. She generally
waits and tries to make me loiter and talk to her; but to-day she
didn't, and she never told me where she lives, though she knew that I
wanted to look out for her house to-morrow. I was just going to ask her
how far it was from Heather Road when off she went. I almost think she
must be ashamed of her home, and doesn't want me to know where it is,'
declared Vava.

'Then you had better not ask her again,' said Stella.

Whether this was true or not will be seen in the next chapter, when the
four young house-hunters went to look at No. 2 Heather Road.




CHAPTER XIII.

YOUNG HOUSE-HUNTERS.


It had become a custom that Vava should accompany her sister to the City
on Saturdays and sit in the housekeeper's room, and on these occasions
Mr. James would drop into Mrs. Ryan's room on some pretext or another,
and ask how she was getting on at school or how she liked London.

This morning she had her algebra to do, and was puzzling over a
difficult problem, for mathematics was not her strong point, when the
junior partner appeared, and seeing her occupation, exclaimed, 'Well,
Miss Vava, how are you? And how's the algebra getting on?'

'I'm quite well, thank you, Mr. Jones; but my algebra isn't. Miss
Courteney says I have not a mathematical brain, and I don't know how I
am to get one,' replied Vava.

'I shouldn't bother about a mathematical brain. I don't see what women
want with mathematics myself; but as for that problem, I'll show you how
to do it,' said the good-natured young man, sitting down beside her and
patiently explaining the difficulty.

'Thank you ever so much. I wish you taught me mathematics--by myself, I
mean. Miss Courteney is a very good teacher; but, you see, she has
thirty of us, so she can't explain each sum to each girl as you have
explained this to me. Besides, the others don't seem to want so much
explanation as I do,' cried Vava, delighted at understanding at last a
difficult rule.

'Is that so? I will teach you, if you like to bring your work to me, for
half-an-hour on Saturdays; I'm generally slack the first half-hour after
I have given your sister her letters,' he said.

'Oh I wish I could; but I don't know if Stella will let me, she's
so'----Vava stopped suddenly.

'So what?' demanded Mr. Jones, laughing.

'So afraid of my troubling you, and she does not like my making friends
with people,' explained the girl; and then, to change the conversation,
she told about the new house they were going to see.'

'I should think it would be a very good plan, and a great deal more
comfortable than your present lodgings,' said Mr. Jones promptly.

'How do you know?' asked Vava, opening her eyes, for Mr. Jones had never
been to their lodgings, and she had never mentioned them to him, for
Stella had forbidden her to speak about them or complain of discomforts.

'Lodgings are mostly uncomfortable,' said Mr. Jones, 'and Blackstead is
a very healthy suburb.'

Here Vava looked more astonished still.

'How did you know it was Blackstead?' she cried, for she had not
mentioned that either.

'Didn't you tell me? Oh well, some one did, and I suppose it is no
secret, is it?' he replied, looking a little annoyed.

'Oh no; only I wondered how you knew the name,' said Vava, and she took
no more notice of his knowledge, and chattered on gaily about the new
house, adding, 'Stella and I are not going to get anything on the
hire-system; she says she could not enjoy sitting in an arm-chair that
had not been paid for.'

Mr. Jones nodded approval. 'That's quite right, and just what I should
expect from your sister. It's not a good way of setting up house; save
first and furnish afterwards is my motto. I have known many cases of
young householders starting in this way and getting deeper and deeper
into debt as expenses increased. But I think it is a good move, and will
not be much more expensive; only you must have some elderly person to
look after you. If I may give a piece of advice, it is to get _no
furniture_ yet.'

'Stella says she will only get simple, light furniture, because we have
our own furniture at home, only it is too big to bring down, and some
horrid people have it now.'

Mr. James looked very grave. 'Why do you call them horrid? Have they
_spoilt_ the furniture, or are they horrid themselves?' he demanded.

'Oh no; they are not really horrid, and they have not used the furniture
yet. They are only horrid because they have taken our house from us, and
Stella says that's not their fault. But I don't agree with her; I call
it mean to take advantage of another person's not being business-like to
win his property from him, and that's how my father lost his.'

Mr. Jones did not reply to these remarks, and Vava, who liked to be
agreed with, persisted, 'Don't you think it was rather a mean thing to
do?'

'I don't know all the facts of the case; but I hope it was a fair and
square deal, and I should think it was,' he replied at last; but he did
not seem to want to talk about it, and after finishing the lesson he got
up and went away.

But Stella was horrified when Vava repeated this conversation to her.
'How many times am I to tell you not to talk of our private concerns to
strangers?' she exclaimed.

'Well, you must have been talking about them yourself, or how did Mr.
Jones know we were going to take a house at Blackstead?' retorted Vava.

'You must have mentioned the name yourself, and you ought not to have
done so. I certainly never did; besides, we are going to view a house,
not take it,' corrected her sister.

'As it happens, I could not remember the name, and that's why I was so
surprised when Mr. Jones said it,' observed Vava.

Stella was thoughtful for a moment, and then she said, 'I don't know who
can have told him, for only Mr. Stacey knows, unless he heard it from
some one at your school. He is a governor, and sometimes goes there, and
I suppose asked about you, and heard so.'

'I never thought of that; of course that's it!' cried Vava; and then
they met the other two and lunched together.

'Have some pepper?' said Eva suddenly, and produced a quaint little
pepper-pot from her bag.

'Is this another piece of furniture?' demanded Stella, smiling.

'Yes, it cost a halfpenny,' said Eva.

'It looks it,' said Amy severely.

'It will have to go into the kitchen; I won't eat out of it,' declared
Vava, pushing it away with pretended scorn.

'People don't eat out of pepper-pots,' remarked Eva, shaking some on to
her plate.

'It's full! Did you get the pepper and all for a halfpenny?' they cried.

But Eva shook the pepper steadily out till her plate was covered and the
other three were sneezing. 'You seem to have colds,' she observed at
last.

'Eva, you are a perfect plague with your purchases,' said Amy, laughing.

'I got it at a penny bazaar--two for a penny; here is the other,' said
Eva, producing a second, and preparing to empty it.

But Vava made a dart at it, and after a struggle secured it. 'No more of
that, thank you,' she declared.

'You need not have excited yourself; it's empty,' said Eva.

Amy pushed her chair back. 'If you have finished, Miss Wharton, I think
we had better start. I know what Eva is like when she gets into one of
these moods, and she is better when she is moving and her mind
occupied.'

As Stella had finished, she willingly agreed to set off, and they were
soon in the train for Blackstead and on their way to No. 2 Heather Road.

'Oh Stella, do let's live here! It feels so fresh, and the trees are
beginning to bud, and these are quite nice gardens!' cried Vava.

'We will see. The house may be damp or very small and dark, or quite
unsuitable,' said Stella cautiously.

But when they came to the semi-detached villa it was none of these
things, but a pretty bow-windowed house, with a nice little garden in
front, and there was a very pretty garden next door, where they knocked
and asked for the key, which was handed to them by a maid, who said,
'The master will be round in ten minutes to see if you like the place.'

'By the way, I don't know the name of the landlord,' said Stella, as she
took the key and walked off with the others.

'That's awkward. Wasn't it on the order to view?' inquired Amy.

Stella laughed guiltily. 'I believe it was; but, to tell the truth, I
did not look. It was very unbusiness-like of me. However, we shall know
if it comes to anything.'

'But we sha'n't know what to call him,' said Eva.

'It doesn't matter. Let's go over the house--it looks lovely to me.--Oh
Stella, there is a tiny lawn, and a tree in the middle, and fruit-trees
round the sides, and an arbour with a little table in it. Oh we must
take this house; I should love to live here!' cried Vava with
enthusiasm.

'You can't live in the arbour; let us go and look at the house,' said
Stella; but Vava and Eva had opened the back-door, which led into the
garden, and their voices were heard exclaiming in delight as they found
primrose and violet plants and an early snowdrop, and fruit-trees which
might be apples or pears or plums.

From the next-door drawing-room window a girl watched them, but kept
well behind the curtain. 'They like it, mother; I believe they will take
it,' she said to some one within the room.

'I hope they will; they will be very nice, quiet neighbours; but, mind,
I will not have you running in and out and intruding upon them.'

Meanwhile Stella and Amy were looking over the house, and they found a
large bedroom, three smaller ones, a nice bathroom, and two
sitting-rooms, one looking on the garden and one on the road, and a
kitchen, 'which is almost the pleasantest room in the house,' said
Stella.

'Yes, and it is all on two floors. I do hope the landlord will agree to
our taking it together,' said Amy.

At that moment the landlord rang the front-door bell, and the two girls
who went to meet him were agreeably surprised to see such a fine,
dignified man.

After some talk, the man said, 'I fancy you do not know who I am?'

'No-o, I forgot to read your name,' Stella admitted.

'And my daughter did not tell you either, for some foolish reason. My
name is Hackney,' said the man.

But Stella looked puzzled. 'Your daughter? Do I know her?' Then a light
dawned upon her. 'Is Doreen Hackney your daughter? I had forgotten her
name. That is very nice for Vava, as they are great friends at school.'

Amy was surprised to see the pleased and relieved look on Mr. Hackney's
face. 'So Doreen says, and I hope we may come to terms. Your lawyer
seemed satisfied. I suppose you know he wrote to me? I can only say I
will do all I can; and now, if you will accept a cup of tea my wife will
be honoured.'

Stella did not know Mr. Stacey had written, but accepted the invitation
very simply. She liked this simple, straightforward man, and called the
two girls in from the garden to come to tea at the landlord's.

'Mrs. Hackney has kindly asked us to have tea with her,' she said; but
she had no time to say more, for they were at the house, and Mr. Hackney
took them into the drawing-room, where they found Mrs. Hackney and
Doreen.

'Doreen!' cried Vava, and stood still in astonishment, and then, as
Doreen came forward, she added mischievously, 'Please, Stella, I don't
think we had better stay, as Doreen does not approve of knowing her
next-door neighbour.'

Mrs. Hackney laughed; and though Stella was a little shocked at Vava's
want of manners, she smiled at sight of the two girls' pleasure and the
amount they had to say to each other.

'Doreen is an only child, and was very delicate, though she looks strong
now, and we sent her to a farm for a couple of years, where she has
learnt rough ways. It has been a great thing for her your sister making
friends with her; but it must just go as far as you wish out of school,'
said Doreen's mother.

'It may go as far as you like; I could not wish for a nicer companion
for Vava,' said Stella.

And Vava heard her with surprise. 'You are a naughty girl, Doreen, and
you annoyed me very much yesterday; and now I should think you have
learnt that honesty is the best policy,' she said to her friend.

'I was so dreadfully afraid your sister would not come if she knew,'
said Doreen.

'Then what would have been the use of her coming, only to refuse when
she did know?' inquired Vava with some reason.

'Oh I was sure if she once saw the house and garden she would take it,
because it is such a nice one!' cried Doreen.

Stella only smiled, but Vava whispered, 'I'm sure we shall come here.
Stella never speaks until she is quite certain of a thing, and our
landlord approves.'

And then, after a very dainty tea out of a silver teapot and fine
porcelain, the four turned homeward, talking eagerly about 'our new
home,' as they called it.

Stella Wharton and Amy Overall sat leaning back in opposite corners of
the carriage, smiling at the grand plans of the two younger girls, who
were arranging the rooms and furnishing them with ideal furniture, which
changed every few minutes, as did the wall-papers, except Eva's bedroom,
which always had a paper covered with roses. 'I have always dreamt of
living in a cottage covered with roses; but, till I do, I am going to
make shift with a bedroom covered with rose-pink roses climbing about
everywhere in large bunches tied up with blue ribbons,' she affirmed.

'Roses don't climb about tied up with ribbons,' remonstrated Vava, and
then they all laughed at Eva's mistake.

'Oh well, I meant hanging about; I have seen papers like that, all pink
roses and blue ribbons, and longed to have one; and now that I can
choose my own paper that's what I'm going to have.--And oh, Miss
Wharton, do have a crimson hall; it makes you feel warm the minute you
get into a house!' cried Eva.

'And what about summer--you want to feel cool then? I think a green
paper would be best,' argued Vava, and in discussing the merits of the
different colours the journey was soon at an end, and the four, as they
often did, wound up the evening together at Bleak House, where the
matron generally arranged a musical or card evening for the girls who
boarded with her.




CHAPTER XIV.

OFF TO A HOME AGAIN.


The mystery of Doreen's behaviour being cleared up, the two Whartons
thought no more of Mr. James and his acquaintance with their movements.
But a week later, when the little house was practically taken, Miss
Wharton had a letter from Mr. Stacey which made her think that 'people'
did interest themselves in her private affairs, and mingled with her
gratitude was a feeling of resentment.

However, she read the letter to Vava, who by no means shared this
resentment. 'Sending us some surplus furniture which is not wanted up
there, and will nearly furnish our little house, is he? That's the
Montague Joneses, you may be sure, Stella. How nice and thoughtful of
them! I wonder if Mr. James Jones is any relation of theirs?'

Now this thought had come into Stella's mind too; but she replied, 'I
don't think so. He would probably have mentioned it, and been rather
proud of the fact that some of his family owned Lomore.'

'I don't believe he would mention it; he is too much of a gentleman,'
maintained Vava stoutly.

'Mr. James Jones?' questioned Stella, lifting her eyebrows at this
championship.

'Yes, and I want to know if he may teach me algebra?' continued Vava.

Stella, as has been said, was a slow thinker, and the junior partner as
a mathematical master was a novel and strange idea which she did not
take in at once. 'I don't understand. How can Mr. Jones teach you
algebra?' she inquired at length.

'Quite well; he explained a difficult rule to me in about ten minutes
last Saturday,' said Vava.

'You surely don't imagine that Mr. Jones has time to teach you
mathematics in office hours? And he certainly can't teach you out of
them,' objected Stella.

'He has plenty of time; he says he's always slack on Saturday mornings
after he has given you the letters, and he will teach me for
half-an-hour if you will let him,' explained Vava.

Miss Wharton did not like the idea somehow. She did not want to be under
an obligation to her employer; nor did she like to own to herself, far
less to Vava, that the reason of her objection was a feeling that it was
'because he thought she was pretty.' However, as she could not give this
reason, and had no other, she said reluctantly, 'It is very kind of Mr.
Jones, but you must not take advantage of his good-nature; you must only
come occasionally, not every Saturday.' Stella consoled herself with the
thought that when they were in their new house Vava would no longer want
to come to the City with her, but would prefer to stay with Doreen
Hackney. Again it occurred to her to wonder how Mr. Jones knew they were
going to Blackstead, and she felt rather annoyed at his impertinent
curiosity, in consequence of which her manner was so reserved, not to
say forbidding, that Mr. Jones in his turn wondered what was the matter
with his secretary, and whether she would never be more friendly with
him.

'I don't want to be familiar, goodness knows; but really to work for
hours every day with a person who treats you as if you were her deadly
enemy, and won't allow you even to ask if she is cold, and would like
the window shut or sit nearer the fire, is annoying, you must own?' he
complained to his mother.

The latter laughed at his aggrieved expression. 'Girls don't generally
treat you so badly, do they? Well, it won't do you any harm to be
snubbed for once in your life, though it's only by a City clerk,' she
replied.

'Only a City clerk? A disguised duchess would be nearer the mark! I 'm
helping Vava with her sums--Miss Vava, I beg her pardon--one has to be
careful with any one belonging to Miss Wharton. I am surprised that she
allows me to give her sister algebra lessons, as Vava calls it. What a
stupid thing pride is, and, above all things, pride of birth. Think how
much more she would enjoy life if she would be friends with us, instead
of keeping us at a distance as if we were dirt under her feet!' cried
the young man with irritation.

'You would not take so much trouble if she were plain, and perhaps she
feels that,' observed his mother.

'I should be civil to her, and she would be civil to me, which is more
than Miss Wharton is,' observed Mr. James Jones, taking up his hat to go
to his office.

His mother looked after him with troubled eyes. 'I am dreadfully afraid
he is getting to like that girl,' she remarked to her husband.

'Then he'd better give it up, for she evidently doesn't care for him?'
replied Mr. Jones.

'He's good-looking enough to please most girls,' said his wife.

'Yes, but Miss Wharton did not go to the City to flirt or fall in love,
and I respect her all the more for it. I should like to ask her and that
little sister of hers here; but I suppose it's no use, eh?' he inquired.

'Not a bit, especially as they are moving out of town; not but what I
shall call upon them when they are settled at Blackstead, and I'll see
if I can persuade them to come and dine here then,' she said.

Stella Wharton ought to have been much flattered at the desire for her
society and the trouble these rich people were putting themselves to in
order to make the acquaintance of their son's clerk; but it is to be
feared that if she had known it would neither have flattered nor pleased
her--poor proud Stella! But the kindness of the Hackneys pleased her,
and she did not seem to mind accepting civilities from them.

It was Stella's house, taken in her name, and the other two were to
share it for a year, furnishing their own rooms and a sitting-room; the
rest was being furnished by Stella, chiefly from Lomore, where old
'nursie' was finding unexpected treasures.

'If only she could come herself, Stella!' said Vava wistfully.

But Stella replied decidedly, 'That is impossible; she could not
possibly do the work of that house alone, and we cannot afford two
servants.'

So Vava gave up all hope of seeing her old nurse until fate should take
them north again.

The next time the youthful housekeepers went to Heather Road to measure
rooms and windows, the exact sizes of which Mrs. Morrison wrote from
Scotland that she wished to know, Mrs. Hackney as usual asked them to go
in to tea with her, and, in the course of conversation with Stella,
observed, 'If I may be allowed to make a suggestion, I should not get a
servant at once; it will be amusing for a short time to do a little
housework, and while everything is new and clean there will be no hard
work to do. Besides, the Easter holidays are soon coming, and you want
to go to the sea for a few days to bring the roses back to this young
lady's cheeks.'

'Oh I think it will be change enough to come out here,' said Stella
quickly.

'Then you will have plenty of time to do your own work,' agreed Mrs.
Hackney, guessing that motives of economy prevented the girls from going
away at Easter, and respecting Stella's sturdy independence and thrifty
ways.

Stella, for her part liked and respected Mrs. Hackney, and she and Amy
decided to take her advice, and do without a servant, for the present at
least.

In spite of Vava's disappointment at not having 'nursie' at No. 2
Heather Road, she found herself counting the days until they moved.

Nor was Eva less enthusiastic. Indeed, her enthusiasm went rather too
far; she was always buying something or other 'for her bedroom.'

'There won't be an inch of wall-paper to be seen, Eva,' Vava warned her,
as she showed her the tenth picture she had bought for it.

'Oh yes, there will; it's wonderful what a lot you can get into a room,
and pictures brighten up a place,' she argued.

But one day Eva came to the club in a state of great excitement.
'Girls!' she cried, including Stella in this familiar address, 'I have
just bought myself the sweetest suite of furniture you ever saw!'

Every one was surprised at this, for only the day before Eva had
announced in melancholy tones that she had spent her last penny, and
could buy no more pictures, for which she had developed a mania.

'I thought you had no money?' said Vava, with her usual impulsive
candour.

'Oh that's all right; the man does not want to be paid yet. I know you
don't approve of that; but it is a case of Hobson's choice with me, and
heaps of people do it,' she said, turning to Stella.

'I only disapprove of it for myself. What is your suite like?' inquired
Stella with extra geniality, because she wished to put Eva at her ease.

This was very easily done, for things, as a rule, did not go deep with
that young lady, and she replied, 'It is inlaid walnut, and the wardrobe
has three cheval-glasses, so that you can see all sides of you at once
and how your dress hangs, and that's a thing one never can see, and I do
hate a skirt that dips at one side or is short in the front and draggles
behind, so you can all come and look at yourselves in my glass before
you go out; and the washing-stand is a dream too, with tiles
hand-painted; so is the chest of drawers. You will all fall in love with
it when you see it, as I did.'

'Was it very expensive?' asked Vava.

'No, not very, considering how beautiful it is,' replied Eva airily.

All this time Amy had said nothing, but looked rather grave, and now she
inquired, 'Did you say you had bought it, Eva?'

'Yes--that's to say, I have ordered it, and it is to be sent down to 2
Heather Road on the 19th of March.'

This was the day before the girls were to move in; it was a Friday, and
the Hackneys had offered to take in anything that was sent down
beforehand, and suggested their coming in on the Saturday before
quarter-day.

'It will prevent their breaking into another week's rent at their
lodgings,' Mrs. Hackney had suggested to her husband. And as it was the
most convenient day for them to move, it was decided to ask for a
holiday from their various chiefs in the City, and start the new
experiment on the 20th of March, and most of the furniture was being
sent the day before.

But Amy looked hurt. 'Have you chosen it without me?' she asked.

Eva coloured up as she answered in rather a hurried way, 'I couldn't
help it. I did it rather suddenly, and the man said he could not promise
to keep it for me. Besides, I knew you would only object, now you've
become so strait-laced and are furnishing your room out of
packing-cases.'

Amy took no notice of this scornful accusation. 'But you can't have
bought it alone? The man would never sell furniture on credit to a girl
like you,' she protested.

Eva got very indignant. 'Why not? I suppose he knows he can trust me?'
she said.

'But that is just what he cannot; you are only sixteen, and he could not
recover from you if you did not pay. I can't understand it,' observed
Amy.

'You are not wanted to; it's all arranged, and the suite will arrive on
the 19th of March, and I shall pay so much a week honestly until I have
paid up,' said Eva.

But Amy would not let the matter rest; and, failing to get any
satisfaction out of Eva, she took counsel with Stella, rather to the
latter's embarrassment. However, as Amy seemed to be really worried,
Stella tried to comfort her without being false to her principles. 'It
cannot be more than a few pounds. They get up these suites to look very
pretty for a low sum, and if none of the drawers shut, as often happens,
it will be a lesson to her; and as for the payments, fortunately she
gets her money weekly, so she can pay regularly.'

'But she can only pay a few shillings a week, and that only by being
very economical and self-denying, and Eva is neither by nature. Besides,
I cannot get her to tell me where she bought it, nor what agreement she
has signed,' said Amy.

'I think that may be because she knows we all disapprove of getting
goods on credit,' suggested Stella.

'Still, there is something I do not understand about it; no reputable
tradesman would enter into an agreement with a young girl like Eva. I
hope--I do hope--she has not done anything foolish,' Amy said with a
sigh.

Stella thought there was no doubt about that, though she did not say so,
for she expected to see some showy, sham walnut suite which Eva had been
inveigled into buying by some unscrupulous tradesman; but she only said,
'One learns by experience. I should not say any more about it; it is too
late to stop her, and perhaps when we all live together she will be more
open.'

But Amy had not told Stella her real fear, lest she should be shocked;
but the truth was she was haunted by a horrid suspicion that Eva had
bought the furniture in their names, or done something she was ashamed
of; else why did she so obstinately refuse to say where she had bought
it? But it was not much good asking herself these questions, for there
was no answer to them for the present, and the answer when it did come
was not pleasant.

In the meantime there was plenty to do, for they were to take possession
of their new abode in a fortnight, and every minute was spent in running
up casement cloth for curtains, hemming dusters, and shopping. Stella
had not thought she could be so happy in this wilderness of bricks.

Mrs. Hackney was kindness itself, and yet she kept at a distance and
never once came into the new house, which looked very pretty, with its
papers, self-coloured in most of the rooms, though Eva had chosen a
bright floral paper covered with pink roses.

Mr. Jones noticed the brighter looks of his secretary, though he made no
remark, not even when she asked to be excused from coming to the office
on the 20th of March, a request which he immediately granted.

And at last the eventful day came, and at the very early hour of six the
four girls started from their respective houses. They travelled out by
the same train, alighted at Blackstead, and set off for No. 2 Heather
Road, where they arrived not long after seven o'clock to a series of
surprises.




CHAPTER XV.

EVA'S PRESENTIMENT.


'I am tired already,' said Eva with a yawn, as they started from
Blackstead Station to walk to Heather Road. It was not far, and it was
too early for any cabs to be at the station.

'Take my arm,' said Vava with pretended sympathy.

But as Eva took it she sighed, instead of laughing, as she said, 'I feel
dreadfully depressed, just as if something were going to happen.'

'So something is going to happen; we are going to have a home of our own
again,' said Vava. 'But I don't see why that should make you so
melancholy; it is not very flattering to us.'

'It's not that! You know I am just as keen about this house business as
ever I was, and I consider I worked it very cleverly, for you would
never have come here but for me. Confess now, would you?' said Eva.

'No, I don't suppose we should; but I don't know that you "worked it,"
as you call it, quite honestly,' replied Vava.

'If every one were as honest as you are, which means saying out just
what you think, the world would be a very disagreeable place to live
in,' retorted Eva.

Vava did not make any reply; she was beginning to feel a little of Eva's
depression, for it did not seem promising to begin their new life
together by quarrelling.

Presently Eva, who forgot what she had said five minutes after she had
said it, remarked, 'You may laugh as much as you like.'

Vava was not laughing, but Eva did not notice that.

'But I have a presentiment that something will happen in this house. I
woke up this morning with a dreadful weight on my mind, just as if some
one were dead, and it's a dreadful feeling. Have you ever had it?'

'The feeling that some one were dead? Not unless it was true,' replied
Vava.

'But it's not true now--at least as far as I know--so it must be a
presentiment; or else why should I feel like this to-day of all days,
when I was in such good spirits yesterday?' she demanded.

'Do you mean that you think that one of us is going to die?' inquired
Vava in low tones. She was not superstitious, though like most Celts she
had a vivid imagination.

But Eva was sorry when she saw how she had frightened Vava, and she said
hastily, 'Of course not; I only felt as if things would go wrong. I dare
say we shall find that some of the furniture has not arrived, or that
your china has been broken on the way, or that the chimney smokes and we
sha'n't be able to have any fire in the dining-room, or something horrid
like that.'

'Well, you are a cheerful companion!' said Amy's voice from behind.

The two girls turned, and found that Stella and Amy had caught up to
them and overheard Eva's prophecies about the state of things that
awaited them.

'Eva has been having bad dreams or something, I think,' laughed Vava,
who had recovered her spirits.

'I haven't. I only had a presentiment, and, mark my words, it will come
true,' declared that young person.

'So have I a presentiment, and that is we shall find the fire lighted
and a nice warm room to go into, thanks to Mrs. Hackney's kindness,'
remarked Stella, as they turned the corner of the road.

The others looked at No. 2 Heather Road, which had come in sight; and,
spying smoke come out of the chimney, laughed heartily at Stella's
presentiment. So that it was a merry quartette, after all, which arrived
at the new little house, and the sound of their young and joyous voices
made Mrs. Hackney smile happily to herself.

'Oh mother, can't I just go in and bid them welcome? I do so want to see
their faces and hear what they say when they see everything,' pleaded
Doreen.

'No, Doreen; I will have no running in and out, and you are not to go
near them to-day. I have left a message to say that if they want
anything they are to come and ask for it; but they will have plenty to
do and talk about without you?' declared her mother.

So Doreen, who had already been into No. 2 with flowers for the vases,
gave a sigh, and had to content herself with looking out of the back
window, in the hope that Vava would go into the garden, and she would
see her from there.

Stella put the key into the door and turned the handle, but found that
it was already unlocked; and, making their way to the sitting-room which
was to be furnished for the Whartons for their own use, they found to
their delight that not only was the fire lit, but the breakfast was
laid, and the room quite tidy and furnished.

Amy and Eva were loud in their exclamations of delight; but Stella and
Vava stood quite still, with lumps in their throats, for the room was
furnished exactly like Stella's little boudoir at Lomore, with the same
carpet, curtains, and all, and even the same pictures on the wall, with
a single oil-painting of her mother over the mantelpiece.

Vava was the first one to recover herself. 'Stella, it's just like
Lomore!' and as Stella had chosen a paper like her former one, it really
was like the old room.

'It's very kind of them,' she said, rather doubtfully.

'Kind of them! I should think it is! And fancy Mrs. Hackney guessing
where all the furniture used to go! Do you remember that bureau always
stood on the left of the window, just like that, and the little table in
the bow? I expect nursie or David wrote and told them!' exclaimed Vava.

'It is very kind,' repeated Stella in the same constrained voice.

Seeing that the two sisters were agitated at sight of the familiar
objects, Amy and Eva, with tact, went upstairs to look at the latter's
suite, and give them time to recover themselves.

'Kind! of course it is. What is the matter, Stella? You never seem to
like people doing kind things. Aren't you pleased that David took the
trouble to pack all these things so carefully that they are not a bit
scratched or spoilt, and aren't you obliged to Mrs. Hackney for making
the room like our old sitting-room at home?' demanded Vava
half-impatiently.

'It was very good of David, and of course I am grateful to him; and Mrs.
Hackney meant to be kind too, but I think she ought to have asked me
before she unpacked my private things,' said Stella.

Vava looked thoughtful. She felt that Stella was in the right about
this. 'But they are not private, Stella; they are only furniture, and
she meant to be kind, and she has got all this nice breakfast ready. I
think she is in the kitchen, for I can hear some one poking the fire. Do
let's go and thank her, and please be nice and smile at her, Stella,'
Vava begged her.

Stella smiled at this, and it was with smiles on their faces that they
picked their way along the passage through packing-cases into the
kitchen. But when they opened the door the smiles changed into wild
cries of delight, and her English friends would have been surprised if
they had seen the way in which the reserved and cold Miss Wharton threw
her arms round the neck of the respectable middle-aged servant, who
turned and held out her arms to her 'bairns.'

'You thought your old nursie was going to let you keep house all by
yourselves, with no one to look after you, did you?' she said, as she
smoothed their hair and petted them both as if they were little
children.

'Then it was you who unpacked our things? Stella thought some one had
been taking a liberty. Stella's dreadfully afraid of people taking
liberties with her, nursie,' said Vava.

'And quite right too! Dearie me! if you knew how I've worried at the
thought of you two lambs alone in this great city! But it's all right
now; I'm here to look after you. And you've very decent neighbours, who
know their place, and are very obliging without being forward at all,'
said Mrs. Morrison, for she it was.

'Oh I forgot Doreen; I must just go and tell her how glad we are to see
nursie. Fancy her never letting it out, for she must have known it, and
Mrs. Hackney too!' cried Vava, preparing to rush off as she spoke.

'Hoots, Miss Vava, what can you be thinking of, running off without ever
asking your elder sister's leave, and she your guardian and all?' said
Mrs. Morrison reprovingly.

'I didn't think.--May I go, Stella?' she said.

'Yes, but don't stay, and thank Mrs. Hackney for ordering the coals and
the gasman,' said Stella.

'You'd better say for all she has done, for she met me at the station,
and brought me across London herself, or I doubt if I'd ever have got
here; it fairly bewildered me,' said their old nurse.

'When did you come, nursie?' inquired Vava.

'On Wednesday. I wanted to get over the journey and the strangeness of
things before you came, and to get things a bit straight; but I've only
been able to settle the kitchen and your own sitting-room and one
bedroom. I could not take it upon me to interfere with the two young
leddies' rooms, and indeed I did not know where to put their furniture.
There's only furniture for one bedroom between the two of them, though
that's fine. They would have done better to have got two smaller sets,
or a few pieces at a time, I'm thinking, instead of spending all that
money on one suite, as the man called it,' remarked Mrs. Morrison.

'It belongs to one of them; the other is getting hers, a piece at a
time, as you suggest,' said Stella.

'She'll be a sensible young lady. What are they like?' continued Mrs.
Morrison.

Vava left Stella to describe their new house-mates, and also to talk
things over with Mrs. Morrison, who had a great deal to tell her and ask
her, and ran off to see Doreen, who was rewarded for her patience by
Vava's delight.

'I'm just so happy I don't know what to do!' she cried, her eyes shining
and her cheeks so rosy that Mrs. Hackney felt as if the sea-breezes
could very well be done without.

'She is a nice old woman, your old nurse,' said Doreen.

'She's not old; she's only middle-aged.--And she says--at least Stella
says--I am to thank you for all your kindness, and nursie is very
grateful to you too,' said Vava to Mrs. Hackney.

'She is a treasure, and I am very glad you have her. Thank you for
coming in Vava; and now run and have your breakfast; you ought to have a
fine appetite for it after all t

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