hers--to discover that it did not take one very far.

In the drawing-room, which was hung with French engravings mostly after
Watteau, and boasted a faded Aubusson carpet, a tea-table was set out.
Lord Buntingford, having pushed forward a seat for his guest, went
towards the tea-table, and then thought better of it.

"Perhaps you'll pour out tea--" he said pleasantly. "It'll be your
function, I think--and I always forget something."

Mrs. Friend took her seat obediently in front of the tea-table and the
Georgian silver upon it, which had a look of age and frailty as though
generations of butlers had rubbed it to the bone, and did her best not
to show the nervousness she felt. She was very anxious to please her
new employer.

"I suppose Miss Pitstone will be here before long?" she ventured, when
she had supplied both the master of the house and herself.

"Twenty minutes--" said Lord Buntingford, looking at his watch.
"Time enough for me to tell you a little more about her than I
expect you know."

And again his smile put her at ease.

She bent forward, clasping her small hands.

"Please do! It would be a great help."

He noticed the delicacy of the hands, and of her slender body. The face
attracted him--its small neat features, and brown eyes. Clearly a
lady--that was something.

"Well, I shouldn't wonder--if you found her a handful," he said
deliberately.

Mrs. Friend laughed--a little nervous laugh.

"Is she--is she very advanced?"

"Uncommonly--I believe. I may as well tell you candidly she didn't want
to come here at all. She wanted to go to college. But her mother, who was
a favourite cousin of mine, wished it. She died last autumn; and Helena
promised her that she would allow me to house her and look after her for
two years. But she regards it as a dreadful waste of time."

"I think--in your letter--you said I was to help her--in modern
languages--" murmured Mrs. Friend.

Lord Buntingford shrugged his shoulders--

"I have no doubt you could help her in a great many things. Young people,
who know her better than I do, say she's very clever. But her mother and
she were always wandering about--before the war--for her mother's health.
I don't believe she's been properly educated in anything. Of course one
can't expect a girl of nineteen to behave like a schoolgirl. If you can
induce her to take up some serious reading--Oh, I don't mean anything
tremendous!--and to keep up her music---I expect that's