se came a noise that grew louder and louder as the
footsteps drew nearer the door. Victoria recognised the familiar
shuffle. Mrs Bell opened the door.

'Lor, mum,' she cried, 'I'm glad to see you again.' She caught sight of
the trunk. 'Oh, are you moving, mum?'

'Yes, Mrs Bell,' said Victoria. 'I'm moving and I want some rooms. Of
course I thought of you.'

Mrs Bell's face fell. 'Oh, I'm so sorry, mum. The house is full. If
you'd come last week I had the first floor back.' She seemed genuinely
distressed. She liked her quiet lodger and to turn away business of any
kind was always depressing.

Victoria felt dashed. She remembered Edward's consternation on
discovering the change in Gower Street and, for the first time,
sympathised.

'Oh, I'm so sorry too, Mrs Bell. I should like to have come back to
you.'

'Couldn't you wait until next month, mum!' said Mrs Bell, reluctant to
turn her away. 'The gentleman in the second floor front, he's going
away to Rhodesia. It's your old room, mum.'

'I'm afraid not,' said Victoria with a smile. 'In fact I must find
lodgings at once. Never mind, if I don't like them I'll come back here.
But can't you recommend somebody?'

Mrs Bell looked right and left, then into the archway. The little faded
woman had disappeared. The landlady in the billowy blouse was still
surveying the scene. Mrs Bell froze her with a single look.

'No, mum, can't say I know of anybody, leastways not here,' she said
slowly. 'It's a nice neighbourhood of course, but the houses here, they
look all right, but oh, mum, you should see their kitchens! Dirty ain't
the word, mum. But wait a bit, mum, if you wouldn't mind that, I've got
a sister who's got a very nice room. She lives in Castle Street, mum,
near Oxford Circus. It's a nice neighbourhood, of course not so near the
Park,' added Mrs Bell with conscious superiority.

'I don't mind, Mrs Bell,' said Victoria. 'I'm not fashionable.'

'Oh, mum,' cried Mrs Bell, endeavouring to imply together the
superiority of Portsea Place and the respectability of any street
patronised by her family, 'I'm sure you'll like it. I'll give you the
address.'

In a few minutes Victoria was speeding eastwards. Now she was rooted up
for good. She was leaving behind her Curran's and Mrs Bell, slender
links between her and home life, links still, however. The pageant of
London rolled by her, heaving, bursting with rich life. The sunshine
around her bade her be of good cheer. T