influences youth as that the
instructress should give an epitome of her own life, should be able
plainly to show how _she_ has conquered temptation, and risen even above
the _appearance_ of evil. If there is a flaw in the governess, there
will also be a flaw in the pupils--understand, eh?"

"Yes, madam," said Florence; "I am afraid your post won't suit me. I
have certainly a great many flaws; I never supposed you wanted a perfect
governess."

"Impertinent," said Mrs. Fleming. "Here am I ready to offer you the
shelter of my roof, the excellent food which always prevails in this
establishment, and fifteen pounds a year, and yet you talk in that lofty
tone. You are a very silly young woman. I am quite sure you won't suit
me."

"It is a foregone conclusion," said Florence, indulging in a little
pertness as she saw that the situation would no more suit her than she
it. She walked towards the door.

"I will wish you good morning," she said.

"Stay one moment. What can you teach?"

"Nothing that will suit you."

"I must certainly remove my name from that registry-office. I
stipulated that I should see godly maidens of spotless character. You,
who evidently have a shady past, dare to come to me to offer your
polluted services! I will wish you good morning."

"I have already wished you good morning," said Florence. She turned
without another word, and, not deigning to ask the assistance of the
charwoman, left the house.

When she got to the street she was trembling.

"It is hard for girls like me to earn their own bread," she said to
herself. "What is to be done? Nearer and nearer am I getting to the edge
of the cliff. What is to be done?"

She returned home, and spent the rest of the day in a state of intense
depression. Her attic was so suffocating that she could not stay in it,
but there was a general sitting-room downstairs, and she went there and
contrived to make herself as wretched as she could over a well-thumbed
novel which another girl had left behind her on the previous evening.

A certain Miss Mitford, the head of this part of the establishment,
wandered in, saw that Florence was quite alone, noticed how ill and
wretched she looked, and sat down near her.

"Your name is, I think, Aylmer," said this good woman.

"Yes: Florence Aylmer," replied Florence, and she scarcely raised her
eyes from her book.

"You don't look very well. I am going for a little drive: a friend of
mine is lending me her carri