the school for what it would fetch, and no one knew what
had become of her. Mavis grieved at the loss of her friend, but not so
deeply, or for so long, as she would if she had not been consumed with
anxiety on her own account. She had not forgotten Mr Goss's offer of
help: she had called at his house twice, to learn on each occasion that
he was out of town. Presently, Mrs Ellis came in; finding Mavis moping,
she asked her to the downstairs sitting-room for a cup of tea. The girl
gladly went: she sat by the window watching the men working in the yard
behind, while Mrs Ellis made tea in the kitchen. Mavis, wanting air,
opened the window, although she remembered her landlady's liking for
having this particular one shut. No sooner had she done so, than she
heard a woman's voice raised in raucous anger, the while it made use of
much bad language. It abused certain people for not having done their
work. The bad language getting more forceful than before, Mavis moved
from the window. Presently, the voice stopped. Soon after, Mrs Ellis,
looking red and flustered, came into the room. When she saw that Mavis
had opened the window, she became redder in the face, as she said:

"I'm sorry, miss; I couldn't help it."

"Help what?" asked Mavis.

"Talking to the men as I did. I always wanted the window down, so you
shouldn't hear."

"It was you, then?"

"Didn't you know, miss?"

"Not altogether. It was something like your voice."

"If I were to talk to them ordinary, they wouldn't listen; so I've to
talk to them in my 'usband's language, which is all they understand,"
said Mrs Ellis apologetically.

The contrast between Mrs Ellis's neat, unassuming respectability and
her language to the men made Mavis smile.

"I'm glad you've taken it sensible," remarked her landlady. "Many's the
good lodger I've lost through that there window being open."

Tea put fresh heart into Mavis. It was ten days since she had last
called on Mr Goss: she resolved to make a further attempt. He was in,
she learned from the maid-of-all-work, who opened the door of Mr Goss's
house.

On asking to see him, she was shown into a double drawing-room, the
front part of which was tolerably furnished; but Mavis could not help
noticing that the back was quite shabby; unframed coloured prints,
taken from Christmas numbers of periodicals, were fastened to the walls
with tin tacks.

Mr Goss came into the room wiping his mouth with his handkerchief.
Mavis feare