se fifteen school-mistresses make up your whole
social circle, do they? I wouldn't mind prophesying that you'll never
want to speak a word to them out of school hours! I have a friend
living in town, quite a nice woman, with a daughter about your age.
Shall I ask her to send you a card? It would be somewhere for you to go
on free afternoons, and she entertains a good deal, and has a craze for
the feminist movement, and for girls who work for themselves. You might
come in for some fun."

Claire's flush of gratification made her look prettier than ever, and
Mrs Fanshawe felt an agreeable glow of self-satisfaction. Nothing she
liked better than to play the part of Lady Bountiful, especially when
any effort involved was shifted onto the shoulders of another, and in
her careless fashion she was really anxious to do this nice girl a good
turn. She made a note of Claire's address in a dainty gold-edged
pocket-book, expressed pleasure in the belief that through her friend
she would hear reports of the girl's progress, and presently shut her
eyes, and dozed peacefully for the rest of the ride.

Round London a fine rain was falling, and the terminus looked bleak and
cheerless as the train slowed down the long platform. Mason, still
haggard, roused herself to step to the platform and look around as if
expecting to see a familiar face, and in the midst of collecting her own
impedimenta Claire was conscious that Mrs Fanshawe was distinctly
ruffled, when the familiar figure failed to appear. Once more she found
herself coming to the rescue, marshalling the combined baggage to the
screened portion of the platform where the custom-house officials went
through the formalities incidental to the occasion, while the tired
passengers stood shiveringly on guard, looking bleached and grey after
their night's journey. The bright-haired, bright-faced girl stood out
in pleasant contrast to the rest, trim and smart and dainty as though
such a thing as fatigue did not exist. Mrs Fanshawe, looking at her,
stopped short in the middle of a mental grumble, and turned it round, so
that it ended in being a thanksgiving instead.

"Most neglectful of Erskine to fail me after promising he would come...
Perhaps, after all, it's just as well he did not."

And at that moment, with the usual contrariety of fate, Erskine
appeared! He came striding along the platform, a big, loosely-built
man, with a clean-shaven face, glancing to right and left ov