least, mother," she added, with her eyes still downcast, "at
least I can be frank with you. There is no harm in my telling you that I
love you."

The mother pressed the hand that she held in hers.

"And if you tell me often enough, Natalushka, perhaps I shall begin to
believe you."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

A NEW HOME.

George Brand set out house-hunting with two exceptional circumstances in
his favor: he knew precisely what he wanted, and he was prepared to pay
for it. Moreover, he undertook the task willingly and cheerfully. It was
something to do. It would fill in a portion of that period of suspense.
It would prevent his harassing himself with speculations as to his own
future--speculations which were obviously useless until he should learn
what was required of him by the Council.

But none the less was he doomed to the house-hunter's inevitable
disappointment. He found, in the course of his devious wanderings
through all sorts of out-of-the way thoroughfares within a certain
radius from Brompton Church, that the houses which came nearest to his
ideal cottage in a walled garden were either too far away from Hyde
Park, or they were not to be let, or they were to be let unfurnished.
So, like a prudent person, he moderated his desires, and began to cast
about for any furnished house of fairly cheerful aspect, with a garden
behind. But here again he found that the large furnished houses were out
of the question, because they were unnecessarily expensive, and that the
smaller ones were mostly to be found in slummy streets; while in both
cases there was a difficulty about servants. The end of it was that he
took the first floor of an old-fashioned house in Hans Place, being
induced to do so partly because the landlady was a bright,
pleasant-looking little Frenchwoman, and partly because the rooms were
furnished and decorated in a fashion not common to lodging-houses.

Then came the question of terms, references, and what not; and on all of
these points Mr. Brand showed himself remarkably complaisant. But when
all this was done he sat down, and said,

"Now I wish you to understand me clearly, madame. This lady I have told
you about has come through much trouble; you are to be kind to her, and
I will see you do not lose by it. Her daughter will come to see her
frequently, perhaps every day; I suppose the young lady's maid can
remain down-stairs somewhere."

"Oh yes, sir."

"Very well. Now if you will be so good