e end. Don't look so sad! I can't bear to leave you
looking like that."

Mollie gave a flickering smile. She had not been thinking of business
troubles, but naturally Jack could not guess that.

"Once on a time--do you remember?--you wished that I could be serious.
You should not complain because your wish is fulfilled," she said
slowly; and Jack put up a protesting hand.

"Don't! don't! I was a fool! I didn't know what I was saying. You
were made to be happy; you should always be happy if I could arrange it
for you."

Mollie smiled again, but with the same obvious effort.

"I hope you will be happy," she said; "I hope some day we may hear good
news from you. I don't mean about money; you can guess what I mean."

"Yes," said Jack gravely; and there was silence for another five
minutes, while the train approached nearer and nearer to the junction at
which he was to alight, to catch the express for town.

"I hope I shall hear good news of you, too," he said at last. "You will
be busy at first, and there may not be much to tell, but later on--in a
few weeks' time, when you see how things are going--will you let me
know? I shall be so interested to hear; and at any time if I can do
anything, if you need anything done in town, or if I could help by
coming North, you would be doing me a good turn by letting me know. I
mean it, Mollie; it is not a polite form of speech."

"I know; thank you; I will promise," said Mollie, with, for the first
time, a little break in her composure. Her lip trembled in a pathetic,
childlike fashion, and, as if afraid of herself, she bent forward and
addressed a pointed question to Ruth.

Ten minutes later the junction was reached, and Jack stood outside the
carriage saying his last farewells. Ruth talked persistently in a high,
cheerful voice, and Jack bit his moustache and cast furtive glances at
Mollie's white face. She smiled at him bravely as the train steamed
away, and waved her hand, calling out, "Good luck! good luck!" Then
they turned, the two poor girls, and clasped each other tightly.

"Oh, Lucille, my poor Lucille!"

"Berengaria, Berengaria, how horribly it hurts!"

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

BACK TO POVERTY.

Trix was at the station to meet them--a greatly developed Trix, as
became a young woman who not only provided for her own education but
also that of her sister. The door-knocker had disappeared, and her
lanky locks were screwed into a knot about as