bout the county till I am disposed of. It
does not console me in the least, that _all_ the foxes are without
tails," she went on, taking short cuts to her meaning, in her
excitement. "I am going to London with Mrs. Trevelyan, to help her in
her work."

"By _Jove_!" exclaimed Fred. Ernest whistled. Austin stared, with
open mouth.

Having recovered from the first shock of surprise, the family plied
their sister with questions. She said that she had long been thinking of
accepting the post offered her by Mrs. Trevelyan last year, and now she
was resolved. The work was really wise, useful work among the poor,
which Algitha felt she could do well. At home, there was nothing that
she did that the housekeeper could not do better. She felt herself
fretting and growing irritable, for mere want of some active employment.
This was utterly absurd, in an overworked world. Hadria had her music
and her study, at any rate, but Algitha had nothing that seemed worth
doing; she did not care to paint indifferently on china; she was a mere
encumbrance--a destroyer, as Hadria put it--while there was so much, so
very much, that waited to be done. The younger sister made no comment.

"Next time I meet Harold Wilkins," said Fred, drawing a long breath, "I
will tell him that if a girl does not marry, she can devote herself to
the poor."

"Or that she can remain to be the family consolation, eh, Hadria? By
Jove, what a row there will be!"

The notion of Hadria in the capacity of the family consolation, created
a shout of laughter. It had always been her function to upset foregone
conclusions, overturn orthodox views, and generally disturb the
conformity of the family attitude. Now the sedate and established
qualities would be expected of her. Hadria must be the stay and hope
of the house!

Fred continued to chuckle, at intervals, over the idea.

"It _does_ seem to indicate rather a broken-down family!" said Ernest.

"I wish one of you boys would undertake the position instead of laughing
at _me_," exclaimed Hadria in mock resentment. "I wish _you_ would go to
eternal tennis-parties, and pay calls, and bills, and write notes, and
do little useless necessary things, more or less all day. I wish _you_
had before you the choice between that existence and the career of Mrs.
Gordon, with the sole chance of escape from either fate, in ruthlessly
trampling upon the bleeding hearts of two beloved parents!"

"Thank you kindly," said Fred, "but w