vertisement, appealed to him eagerly, for the second time.

"Oh, papa," she said, "there's one thing here I don't like at all! Why
do you put grandmamma's initials at the end? Why do you tell them to
write to grandmamma's house in London?"

"My dear! your mother can do nothing in this matter, as you know. And
as for me (even if I went to London), questioning strange ladies about
their characters and accomplishments is the last thing in the world that
I am fit to do. Your grandmamma is on the spot; and your grandmamma is
the proper person to receive the letters, and to make all the necessary
inquires."

"But I want to see the letters myself," persisted the spoiled child.
"Some of them are sure to be amusing--"

"I don't apologize for this very unceremonious reception of you, Mr.
Armadale," said the major, turning to Allan, with a quaint and quiet
humor. "It may be useful as a warning, if you ever chance to marry and
have a daughter, not to begin, as I have done, by letting her have her
own way."

Allan laughed, and Miss Milroy persisted.

"Besides," she went on, "I should like to help in choosing which letters
we answer, and which we don't. I think I ought to have some voice in the
selection of my own governess. Why not tell them, papa, to send their
letters down here--to the post-office or the stationer's, or anywhere
you like? When you and I have read them, we can send up the letters we
prefer to grandmamma; and she can ask all the questions, and pick out
the best governess, just as you have arranged already, without leaving
ME entirely in the dark, which I consider (don't you, Mr. Armadale?)
to be quite inhuman. Let me alter the address, papa; do, there's a
darling!"

"We shall get no breakfast, Mr. Armadale, if I don't say Yes," said the
major good-humoredly. "Do as you like, my dear," he added, turning to
his daughter. "As long as it ends in your grandmamma's managing the
matter for us, the rest is of very little consequence."

Miss Milroy took up her father's pen, drew it through the last line of
the advertisement, and wrote the altered address with her own hand as
follows:

"_Apply, by letter, to M., Post-office, Thorpe Ambrose, Norfolk_."

"There!" she said, bustling to her place at the breakfast-table. "The
advertisement may go to London now; and, if a governess _does_ come of
it, oh, papa, who in the name of wonder will she be? Tea or coffee, Mr.
Armadale? I'm really ashamed of having kept you waiti