id Elsie.

"We couldn't do it for less," said Mrs. Bishop.

"And the box room'll look really quite comfortable," Dora joined in.
"I've just put the bed up. I never thought it was such a nice little
room."

Two days afterwards Mrs. Priestly and little Maurice had made their
appearance. The slowest of the three flies in the town of Cailsham
drove them up to the door and, for the moment, all work in the
schoolroom had been suspended. The twenty sons of gentlemen, left
to themselves, behaved as the sons of gentlemen--of any men, in
fact-will do. There was an uproar in the schoolroom which Dora,
before she had obtained a proper view of Mrs. Priestly from behind
the door of the pantry at the end of the long hall, was compelled
to go and reduce to silence. Having been deprived of the
gratification of her curiosity, her effort had been with unqualified
success. Between the ages of four and eight a boy can be quelled by
a look. That look, the twenty sons of gentlemen received.

Mrs. Priestly was a tall woman, graceful and, for one who lived in
one of the smaller of the provincial towns, elegantly dressed. Her
face and its expression were sad. The quietness of her manner and
the gentle reserve of her voice added to that sadness. The patient
gaze of her deep grey eyes suggested suffering. Undoubtedly she had
suffered. To the sympathetic observer, this would have been obvious;
but to the calculating mind of Mrs. Bishop it presented itself in
the form of a social aloofness which she was morbidly quick to see
in any one.

Mrs. Priestly was dark. Little Maurice was fair--the Saxon stamped
on his head, coloured in his blue eyes. He was six years old, abundant
in extreme animal spirits, which his mother beheld with a love and
pride in her eyes that was almost pathetic to see in one so possessed
by the apathy of unhappiness, and which Mrs. Bishop observed with
the silent resolve that Master Maurice was on no account to be allowed
into her drawing-room.

When it had come to the moment of leaving her son to the glowing
promises of Mrs. Bishop's tenderness and affection, Mrs. Priestly
broke down, winding her arms tight about his little neck and pressing
him fiercely to her bosom. Mrs. Bishop stood by with an indulgent
smile.

Then Mrs. Priestly had looked up with tears heavy in her eyes.

"I'll come and see you, Mrs. Bishop," she had said with
control--"I'll come and see you when I've said good-bye, before I
go."

Mrs. Bishop