"I don't think you have much pluck," said Nora, not unkindly.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I've as much as anyone else, I expect,
only I don't make a fuss about it."

"Oh, pluck to stand up and let yourself be shot at."--She flushed
slightly at the remembrance of Frank standing in this very room in front
of the gun in her hand. Would she ever forget his laugh!--"But pluck to
do the same monotonous thing day after day, plain, honest, hard
work--you haven't got that sort of pluck. You're a failure and the worst
of it is, you're not ashamed of it. It seems to fill you with
self-satisfaction. Oh, you're incorrigible," she ended with a laugh.

"I am; let's let it go at that. I suppose there's nothing you want me to
take home; I shall be going down to Tunbridge Wells to see mother. Got
any messages?"

"I don't know that I have. Eddie has just brought me a couple of
letters. I'll have a look at them first."

She went over to the table and picked up Miss Pringle's letter and
opened it.

After reading a few lines, she gave a little cry.

"Oh!"

"What's the matter?" asked Marsh.

"What _can_ she mean? Listen! 'I've just heard from Mr. Wynne about your
good luck and I'm glad to say I have another piece of good news for
you.'"

Dropping the letter, she tore open the other. It contained a check. She
gave it a quick glance.

"A check for five hundred pounds! Oh, Eddie, listen." She read from Mr.
Wynne's letter: "'Dear Miss Marsh--I have had several interviews with
Mr. Wickham in relation to the late Miss Wickham's estate, and I
ventured to represent to him that you had been very badly treated. Now
that everything is settled, he wishes me to send you the enclosed check
as some recognition of your devoted services to his late aunt--five
hundred pounds."

"That's a very respectable sum," said Marsh, nodding his head sagely.

"I could do with that myself," remarked Hornby.

"I've never had so much money in all my life!"

"But what's the other piece of good news that Miss Stick-in-the-mud has
for you?"

"Oh, I quite forgot. Where is it?" Her brother stooped and picked the
fallen letter from the floor.

"Thank you. Um-um-um-um-um. Oh, yes, 'Piece of good news for you. I
write at once so that you may make your plans accordingly. I told you in
my last letter, did I not, of my sister-in-law's sudden death? Now my
brother is very anxious that I should make my home with him. So I am
leaving Mrs. Hubbard. She wishes