tainments are far beyond those required for the teaching of such
young children as these."

"Ah, sir, yes! But are beggars then choosers?"

Doctor Brudenell got up, walked to the window and back again.

"It is a fact," he said, slowly, "that in London you have no friends?"

"Yourself," she replied.

"And beyond?"

"Not one."

"Then, until you wish to leave, or until some more suitable and
congenial sphere of work is opened for you, remain, my child."

George Brudenell, speaking thus, had forgotten her beauty, her
queen-like dignity, and remembered only her youth and helplessness. He
went down-stairs with an odd feeling, thinking how quickly, with what
almost disconcerting rapidity, she had, after her point was gained,
recovered that icy composure of manner; remembering, too, how cold and
lifeless her hand had lain in his when she gave it in saying
good-night. But he was glad that she was going to stay; he had that
curious sense of relief from tension which is the result of anxiety
removed, as though to protect her, to befriend and keep her safe, were
an object which had long lain near his heart. He was a little
astonished, but he explained his feeling to himself. She was too young
and far too beautiful to live friendless in the modern Babylon called
London.

He rang for Mrs. Jessop, and explained to that excellent woman this new
phase of affairs. Mrs. Jessop, respectfully listening, received the
news in a manner which could hardly be termed gracious, but prudently
gave but small expression to her opinions. Mrs. Jessop's situation in
the Doctor's household was a very comfortable one, and she did not
desire to lose it; but Mrs. Jessop's eyes were as keen as those of most
women, a fact which she often insisted upon when talking to various
confidential friends--so keen, indeed, that they sometimes descried
things which did not exist. At present, however, Mrs. Jessop merely
told herself that, if Miss Boucheafen had not been quite so handsome,
her chance of remaining in her present quarters would not have been by
any means so great.

Mrs. Jessop, having formed this astute conviction, walked out of the
dining-room, and went down to her snug sitting-room, where, sitting
down by the fire, she fell to darning a table-cloth while she thought
things over. She had arrived at a conclusion that would have astonished
her master, and she chanced to want more cotton, and rose to get it
from her work-box. And among the reels