ty 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