e was not very hungry; in fact, she was scarcely hungry at
all.

As Florence's own quite large meal proceeded, she began to consider
herself the greediest of the greedy.

Miss Franks sat on and chatted. She talked very well, and she had plenty
of tact, and soon Florence began to consider her rather agreeable than
the reverse. Florence had ordered five distinct dishes for her dinner,
and she ate each dish right through. Miss Franks was now even afraid to
glance in her direction.

"There is no doubt the poor soul was starving," she said to herself.

At last Florence's meal was over. The two girls left the table together.

"Come to my room, won't you, to-night? It is not seven o'clock yet. I
always have cocoa between nine and ten. Come and have a cup of cocoa
with me, will you not?"

"Thank you," said Florence; "you are very good. My name is Florence
Aylmer."

"And you are studying? What are you doing?"

"I am not studying."

"Aren't you? Then--"

"You are full of curiosity, and you want to know why I am here," said
Florence. "I am here because I want to earn my bread. I hope to get a
situation soon. I am a girl out of a situation--you know the kind." She
gave a laugh, and ran up the winding stairs to her own attic at the top
of the house, without glancing back at Edith Franks.

"Shy, poor, and half-starved," said the medical student to herself; "I
thought my work would come to me if I waited long enough. I must look
after her a little bit."

Meanwhile, the very first thing Florence found when she entered her room
was a letter, or, rather, a packet, lying on her table. She pounced upon
it, as the hungry pounce on food. Her appetite was thoroughly satisfied
at last, and her mind was just in the humour to require some diversion.
She thought that she would rather like having cocoa presently with Miss
Franks.

"She shall not patronise me; of that I am resolved," thought the proud
girl. But here was a letter--a thick, thick letter. She flung herself
into the first chair and tore it open. She glanced, a puzzled expression
on her face, at pages of closely-written matter, and then picked up a
single sheet, which had fallen from the packet. The letter was from
Bertha Keys, and ran as follows:--

"MY DEAR, GOOD, BRAVE FLO--

"I have obtained your address, no matter how, no matter why,
and I write to you. How are you getting on? You did a daring
thing when you returned you know what; but, my dea