o.'

'And you did really speak about me? Oh, I do wish you'd find some one
to go out with. Then perhaps--'

Monica stood still, hesitated, and at length said,--

'Well--I _have_ found some one.'

'You have?' The girl all but danced with joy. 'You really have?'

'Yes--so now don't trouble me any more.'

This time she was allowed to turn back and enter the house.

No one else had yet come in. Monica ate a mouthful of bread and cheese,
which was in readiness on the long table down in the basement, and at
once went to bed. But no welcome drowsiness fell upon her. At half-past
eleven, when two of the other five girls who slept in the room made
their appearance, she was still changing uneasily from side to side.
They lit the gas (it was not turned off till midnight, after which hour
the late arrivals had to use a candle of their own procuring), and
began a lively conversation on the events of the day. Afraid of being
obliged to talk, Monica feigned sleep.

At twelve, just as the gas went out, another pair came to repose. They
had been quarrelling, and were very gloomy. After a long and
acrimonious discussion in the dark as to which of them should find a
candle--it ended in one of the girls who was in bed impatiently
supplying a light--they began sullenly to throw off their garments.

'Is Miss Madden awake?' said one of them, looking in Monica's direction.

There was no reply.

'She's picked up some feller to-day,' continued the speaker, lowering
her voice, and glancing round at her companions with a grin. 'Or else
she's had him all along--I shouldn't wonder.'

Heads were put forward eagerly, and inquiries whispered.

'He's oldish, I should say. I caught sight of them just as they was
going off in a boat from Battersea Park, but I couldn't see his face
very well. He looked rather like Mr. Thomas.'

Mr. Thomas was a member of the drapery firm, a man of fifty, ugly and
austere. At this description the listeners giggled and uttered
exclamations.

'Was he a swell?' asked one.

'Shouldn't wonder if he was. You can trust Miss M. to keep her eyes
open. She's one of the sly and quiet 'uns.'

'Oh, is she?' murmured another enviously. 'She's just one of those as
gets made a fool of--that's _my_ opinion.'

The point was argued for some minutes. It led to talk about Miss Eade,
who was treated with frank contempt because of her ill-disguised
pursuit of a mere counter-man. These other damsels had, at present,
more exa