hout telling Mrs.
Aylmer what occurred at Cherry Court School and at Cherry Court Park;
you don't want her to know how terribly you injured my great friend,
Florence Aylmer. If you will leave Florence alone now, if you will do
nothing further in any way to injure her, I and those I belong to will
respect your secret. But if I find that you are tampering with
Florence's happiness, then my duty will be plain."

"What will your duty be?" said Bertha. As she spoke she held out a lump
of sugar to a pretty white fantail which came flying to receive it. She
raised her eyes as she spoke and looked full at Kitty.

"I shall tell what I know," said Kitty. "I think that is all." She
turned on her heel and walked away.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A SMILING WORLD.

Things were going well now with Florence Aylmer. She was earning money,
and it was unnecessary for her to live any longer in the top attic of
Prince's Mansions. She had got over her first discomfort; her conscience
no longer pricked her; she took an interest in the situation, and
sometimes laughed softly to herself. She knew that she was losing a good
deal: that the worth and stability of her character were being slowly
undermined. But she was winning success: the world was smiling at her
just because she was successful, and she resolved to go on now, defying
fate.

She wrote often to her mother and to Kitty Sharston, and told both her
mother and Kitty of her successes. She never wrote to Bertha except
about business. Bertha as a rule, enclosed directed envelopes to
herself, so that Florence's writing should not be seen by Mrs. Aylmer or
Trevor or any guests who might be staying in the house. Bertha was very
wise in her generation, and when she did a wrong thing she knew at least
how to do that wrong thing cleverly.

Florence was now quite friendly with Edith Franks. Edith took an
interest in her; she still believed that there was something behind the
scenes--something which she could not quite fathom--but at the same
time she fully and with an undivided heart believed in Florence's great
genius, as did also her brother Tom.

By Edith's advice Florence secured the room next to hers, and the girls
were now constantly together. Tom often dropped in during the evenings,
and took them many times to the play.

Florence began to own that life could be enjoyable even with a heavy
conscience and tarnished honour. She was shocked with herself for
feeling so. She knew that