"Oh," she thought, "I had forgotten these old
friends! How shall we part from them when
the time comes!"

"May I inquire, Miss Vanstone, whether you
and your sister have formed any definite plans
for the future?" asked Mr. Pendril. "Have
you thought of any place of residence?"

"I may take it on myself, sir," said Miss
Garth, "to answer your question for them.
When they leave this house, they leave it with
me. My home is their home; and my bread is
their bread. Their parents honoured me, trusted
me, and loved me. For twelve happy years they
never let me remember that I was their
governess, they only let me know myself as their
companion and their friend. My memory of
them is the memory of unvarying gentleness and
generosity; and my life shall pay the debt of
my gratitude to their orphan children."

Norah rose hastily from the sofa; Magdalen
impetuously left the window. For once, there
was no contrast in the conduct of the sisters.
For once, the same impulse moved their hearts,
the same earnest feeling inspired their words.
Miss Garth waited until the first outburst of
emotion had passed away; then rose; and taking
Norah and Magdalen each by the hand, addressed
herself to Mr. Pendril and Mr. Clare. She spoke
with perfect self-possession; strong in her
artless unconsciousness of her own good action.

"Even such a trifle as my own story," she
said, "is of some importance at such a moment
as this. I wish you both, gentlemen, to understand
that I am not promising more to the
daughters of your old friend than I can perform.
When I first came to this house, I entered it
under such independent circumstances as are
not common in the lives of governesses. In my
younger days, I was associated in teaching with
my elder sister: we established a school in
London, which grew to be a large and prosperous
one. I only left it and became a private
governess, because the heavy responsibility of
the school was more than my strength could
bear. I left my share in the profits untouched,
and I possess a pecuniary interest in our
establishment to this day. That is my story, in
few words. When we leave this house, I
propose that we shall go back to the school in
London, which is still prosperously directed by
my elder sister. We can live there as quietly
as we please, until time has helped us to bear
our affliction better than we can bear it now.
If Norah's and Magdalen's altered prospects
oblige them to earn their own independence, I
can help them to earn it, as a gentleman's
daughters should. The best families in this
land are glad to ask my sister's advice where the
interests of their children's home-training are
concerned; and I answer, beforehand, for her
hearty desire to serve Mr. Vanstone's daughters,
as I answer for my own. That is the future
which my gratitude to their father and mother,
and my love for themselves, now offers to them.
If you think my proposal, gentlemen, a fit and
fair proposal—and I see in your faces that you
do—let us not make the hard necessities of our
position harder still, by any useless delay in
meeting them at once. Let us do what we must
do; let us act on Norah's decision, and leave
this house to-morrow. You mentioned the
servants, just now, Mr. Pendril: I am ready to
call them together in the next room, and to
assist you in the settlement of their claims,
whenever you please."

Without waiting for the lawyer's answer,
without leaving the sisters time to realise their
own terrible situation, she moved at once
towards the door. It was her wise resolution to
meet the coming trial by doing much, and
saying little. Before she could leave the room,
Mr. Clare followed, and stopped her on the
threshold.

"I never envied a woman's feelings before,"
said the old man. "It may surprise you to hear
it; but I envy yours. Wait! I have something
more to say. There is an obstacle still
left—the everlasting obstacle of Frank. Help
me to sweep him off. Take the elder sister
along with you and the lawyer; and leave me
here to have it out with the younger. I want
to see what metal she's really made of."

While Mr. Clare was addressing these words
to Miss Garth, Mr. Pendril had taken the
opportunity of speaking to Norah. "Before I go
back to town," he said, "I should like to have a
word with you in private. From what has
passed to-day, Miss Vanstone, I have formed a
very high opinion of your discretion; and, as an
old friend of your father's, I want to take the
freedom of speaking to you about your sister."

Before Norah could answer, she was
summoned, in compliance with Mr. Clare's request,
to the conference with the servants. Mr.
Pendril followed Miss Garth, as a matter of course.
When the three were out in the hall, Mr. Clare
re-entered the room, closed the door, and signed
peremptorily to Magdalen to take a chair.

She obeyed him, in silence. He took a turn
up and down the room, with his hands in the
side-pockets of the long, loose, shapeless coat
which he habitually wore.

"How old are you?" he said, stopping
suddenly, and speaking to her with the whole
breadth of the room between them.

"I was eighteen last birthday," she answered,
humbly, without looking up at him.

"You have shown extraordinary courage for a
girl of eighteen. Have you got any of that
courage left?"

She clasped her hands together, and wrung
them hard. A few tears gathered in her eyes,
and rolled slowly over her cheeks.

"I can't give Frank up," she said, faintly.
" You don't care for me, I know; but you used
to care for my father. Will you try to be kind
to me for my father's sake?"

The last words died away in a whisper; she
could say no more. Never had she felt the
illimitable power which a woman's love possesses
of absorbing into itself every other event, every
other joy or sorrow of her life, as she felt it
then. Never had she so tenderly associated
Frank with the memory of her lost parents, as