as infectious disease or ink
spilt on the carpet it is still distinctly not a thing to be
encouraged by too great a display of sympathy, and Olive was soon made
to understand that it behoved her to seek some means of livelihood,
some way out into the world.

No proverb is too hackneyed to be comforting at times, and the girl
reminded herself that blood is thicker than water as she looked among
her mother's papers for the Menotti address. They were her cousins,
birds of a feather. She wrote them a queer, shy, charming letter in
strange Italian, laboriously learnt out of a grammar, and then--since
some days must elapse before she could get any answer--she
conscientiously studied the advertisement columns of the papers. She
might be a nursery governess if only she could be sure of herself at
long division, or--horrid alternative--a useful help. Mrs Simons
suggested a shop.

"You have a nice appearance, miss. Perhaps you would do as one of the
young ladies in the drapery department, beginning with the tapes and
thread and ribbon counter, you know, and working your way up to the
showroom."

But Olive altogether declined to be a young lady.

She waited anxiously for her cousins' letter, and it meant so much to
her that when it came she was half afraid to open it.

It was grotesquely addressed to the

Genteel Miss Agar Olive,
Marsden Street, 159,
Brighton,
Provincia di Sussex,
Inghilterra.

The post-mark was Siena. It was stamped on the flap, which was also
decorated with a blue bird carrying a rose in its beak, and was rather
strongly scented.

"DEAR COUSIN,--We were so pleased and interested to hear
from you, though we greatly regret to have the news of
our aunt's death. Our father's sister lives with us
since we are orphans. She is a widow and has no children
of her own. If you can pay us fifteen lire a week we
shall be satisfied, and we will try to get you pupils
for English. Kindly let us know the date and hour of
your arrival.--Believe us, yours devotedly,

"MARIA, GEMMA and CARMELA."

Olive read it carefully twice over, and then sat down at the table and
began to scribble on the back of the envelope. She convinced herself
that three times fifteen was forty-five, and that so many lire
amounted to not quite two pounds. Then there was the fare out to be
reckoned. Finally, she decided that