e!'

She felt quite happy and pleased with herself under this resolution, but
it was late before she could put it in practice. The lady at Kensington
rather started on entering the room where she had been waiting nearly an
hour. 'I thought--' she said, apologetically, 'Did my servant say Miss
Sandbrook?'

Lucilla assented, and the lady, a little discomposed, asked a few
questions, furtively surveying her all the time, seemed confused, then
begged her to take some luncheon. It was so long since Mrs. Murrell's
not very tempting breakfast, that the invitation was welcome, even though
the presence of a gentleman and an elderly lady showed that it was a
pretext for a family inspection, and again she detected the same start of
surprise, and a glance passing round the circle, such as made her glad
when afterwards an excuse was made for leaving her alone, that she might
apply to the glass to see whether anything were amiss in her dress.

Then first she remarked that hers was not the governess air. She had
long felt very virtuous for having spent almost nothing on her clothes,
eking out her former wardrobe to the utmost; and the loose, dove-coloured
jacket over her black silk skirt betrayed Parisian make, as did the
exquisite rose, once worn in her hair, and now enlivening the white
ribbon and black lace of the cheap straw bonnet, far back upon the
rippling hair turned back from her temples, and falling in profuse
ringlets. It was her ordinary unpremeditated appearance, but she
perceived that to these good people it was startlingly stylish, and she
was prepared for the confused intimation that there was no need for
entering upon the discussion of terms.

She had been detained too late to make her other call, and the
processions of tired children showed her that the service at St. Paul's
was over. The depression of disappointment inclined her the more to the
loving old face; and she caused herself to be set down at the end of
Woolstone-lane, feeling as if drawn by a magnet as she passed the well
known warehouse walls, and as if it were home indeed when she reached the
court door.

It would not yield to her intimate manipulation of the old latch--a bad
sign, and the bell re-echoed in vacancy. Again and again she rang, each
moment of exclusion awakening a fresh yearning towards the cedar
fragrance, every stare of passer-by making her long for the safe shelter
of the bay-windowed parlour. At last a step approached, and