o work on it at once in the morning.'

Manuscripts entrusted to them were kept in a fire-proof safe. When this
had been locked up, the ladies went to their dressing-room and prepared
for departure. The people who lived on the premises were responsible
for cleaning the rooms and other care; to them Rhoda delivered the
door-keys.

Miss Barfoot was grave and silent on the way home. Rhoda, annoyed at
the subject that doubtless occupied her friend's thoughts, gave herself
up to reflections of her own.

CHAPTER VII

A SOCIAL ADVANCE

A week's notice to her employers would release Monica from the
engagement in Walworth Road. Such notice must be given on Monday, so
that, if she could at once make up her mind to accept Miss Barfoot's
offer, the coming week would be her last of slavery behind the counter.
On the way home from Queen's Road, Alice and Virginia pressed for
immediate decision; they were unable to comprehend how Monica could
hesitate for another moment. The question of her place of abode had
already been discussed. One of Miss Barfoot's young women, who lived at
a convenient distance from Great Portland Street, would gladly accept a
partner in her lodging--an arrangement to be recommended for its
economy. Yet Monica shrank from speaking the final word.

'I don't know whether it's worth while,' she said, after a long
silence, as they drew near to York Road Station, whence they were to
take train for Clapham Junction.

'Not worth while?' exclaimed Virginia. 'You don't think it would be an
improvement?'

'Yes, I suppose it would. I shall see how I feel about it tomorrow
morning.'

She spent the evening at Lavender Hill, but without change in the mood
thus indicated. A strange inquietude appeared in her behaviour. It was
as though she were being urged to undertake something hard and
repugnant.

On her return to Walworth Road, just as she came within sight of the
shop, she observed a man's figure some twenty yards distant, which
instantly held her attention. The dim gaslight occasioned some
uncertainty, but she believed the figure was that of Widdowson. He was
walking on the other side of the street, and away from her. When the
man was exactly opposite Scotcher's establishment he gazed in that
direction, but without stopping. Monica hastened, fearing to be seen
and approached. Already she had reached the door, when Widdowson--yes,
he it was--turned abruptly to walk back again. His eye was at once upon