isn't often the
drawing-room gets really decently dusted," she remarked. "Nothing like
the eye of the mistress; I think I must practise every day while you are
dusting, Cecilia. Oh, and, Cecilia, give the legs of the piano a good
rubbing. Dear me, I must go and dress."

Cecilia dragged herself upstairs a few minutes later. All the spring was
gone out of her; it really did not seem to matter much now whether she
met Bob or not; she was too tired to care. This was only a sample of
many days; so it had been for two years--so it would be for two more,
until she was twenty-one, and her own mistress. But it did not seem
possible that she could endure through another two years.

She reached her own room, and was about to shut the door, when the harsh
voice rasped upwards.

"Cecilia! Cecilia! Come here a minute."

The girl went down slowly. Mrs. Rainham was standing before her mirror.

"Just come and hook my dress, Cecilia. This new dressmaker has a knack
of making everything hard to fasten. There--see that you start with the
right hook and eye."

At the moment, physical contact with her stepmother was almost the last
straw for the girl. She obeyed in silence, shrinking back as far as she
could from the stout, over-scented body and the powdered face with the
thin lips. Mrs. Rainham watched her with a little smile.

"Yes, that's all right," she said. "Now, my hat, Cecilia--it's in the
bandbox under the bed. I can't stoop in this dress, that's the worst
of it. And my gloves are in that box on the chest of drawers--the white
pair. Hurry, Cecilia, my appointment is for four o'clock."

"Mine was for three o'clock," said the girl in a low voice.

"Oh, well, you should manage your work better. I always tell you that.
Nothing like method in getting through every day. However, Bob is only
your brother--it would be more serious if it was a young man you were
meeting. Brothers don't matter much."

Cecilia flamed round upon her.

"Bob is more to me than anyone in the world," she cried. "And I would
rather keep any other man waiting."

"Really? But I shouldn't think it very likely that you'll ever have to
trouble about other young men, Cecilia; you're not the sort. Too thin
and scraggy." Mrs. Rainham surveyed her own generous proportions in the
glass, and gathered up her gloves with a pleased air. For the moment she
could not possibly believe that anyone could have referred to her as "an
over-ornamented pie." "Good-bye, Cecil