s.
Wickham's great generosity.

"Well, I think I must leave you," he said, looking at Nora. "Good-by,
Miss Marsh. If I can be of any help to you I hope you'll let me know."

"That's very kind of you."

Bowing slightly to Mrs. Wickham and nodding to her husband, he went out.

"We must go, too, Dorothy," said James uneasily.

Mrs. Wickham began drawing on her gloves. "Jim will be writing to you in
a day or two. You know how grateful we both are for all you did for our
poor aunt. We shall be glad to give you the very highest references.
You're such a wonderful nurse. I'm sure you'll have no difficulty in
getting another situation; I expect I can find you something myself.
I'll ask among all my friends."

Nora made no reply to this affable speech.

"Come on, Dorothy; we really haven't any time to lose," said Wickham
hurriedly.

"Good-by, Miss Marsh."

"Good-by," said Nora dully. She stood, her hands resting on the table,
her eyes fastened on the long blue envelope which Mr. Wynne had
forgotten. From a long way off she heard the wheels of the cab on the
driveway.

CHAPTER IV

"I thought they were never going. Well?"

It was Miss Pringle who had come in from her retreat in the garden,
eager to hear the news the moment she had seen the Wickhams driving
away. Nora turned and looked at her without a word.

Miss Pringle was genuinely startled at the drawn look on her face.

"Nora! What's the matter? Isn't it as much as you thought?"

"Miss Wickham has left me nothing," said Nora in a dead voice.

Miss Pringle gave a positive wail of anguish. "Oh-h-h-h."

"Not a penny. Oh, it's cruel!" the girl said, almost wildly. "After
all," she went on bitterly, "there was no need for her to leave me
anything. She gave me board and lodging and thirty pounds a year. If I
stayed it was because I chose. But she needn't have promised me
anything. She needn't have prevented me from marrying."

"My dear, you could never have married that little assistant. He wasn't
a gentleman," Miss Pringle reminded her.

"Ten years! The ten best years of a woman's life, when other girls are
enjoying themselves. And what did I get for it? Board and lodging and
thirty pounds a year. A cook does better than that."

"We can't expect to make as much money as a good cook," said Miss
Pringle, with touching and unconscious pathos. "One has to pay something
for living like a lady among people of one's own class."

"Oh, it's cruel!" Nora c