need not thread those horrid streets again!"

There was nothing more to do but to go home, and yet she didn't directly.
There would be only Mrs. Davidson in, who was so ungracious and
disagreeable, and she lingered half an hour or so, talking to Harry
Dutton, who would, perhaps, be gone by to-morrow, but he wasn't, nor the
next day, nor the next. They never made any assignations, yet day after
day Bluebell met him, and for a brief space they were together.

Harry Dutton was only twenty-two, he had been at sea all his life, and
had never been seriously in love before. But now he had completely lost
his head, and all considerations were swept away by this overmastering
passion, which his knowledge that Bluebell did not fully return only
seemed to augment. His uncle was a selfish, exacting old man, but he had
been kind enough to this boy who, with the usual ingratitude of human
nature, forgot everything to gratify the fancy of the moment.

Dutton had never been thrown in contact with so pretty a creature, and,
notwithstanding the apparent aberration of mind displayed in thus
jeopardizing his prospects, laid his plans coolly and cleverly enough.
Bluebell still talked of her impending governess life, and he kept his
own council, though firmly resolved never to lose sight of her again.

She was beginning to wonder that her advertisements had elicited no
replies, and Mrs. Davidson had been especially unpleasant about it, when
one day the wished-for letter arrived.

"Mrs. Giles Johnson, having seen 'B.L.'s' advertisement in the _Liverpool
Mercury_, is requiring such a person to instruct and to take entire
charge of the wardrobes of five little girls, one of whom, being nervous,
she would be required to sleep with. Mrs. G. J. trusts she is obliging,
and would have no objection, when the lady's-maid has a press of work, to
assist her with it, or make herself generally useful in any other way.
'B.L.'s' attainments being apparently limited, and Mrs. Giles Johnson
having an abhorrence of music, she can only offer a salary of eighteen
pounds a year."

Bluebell alternated between tears and laughter on the perusal of this
letter.

"Why, at the Rollestons'," she cried, "I had thirty pounds a year, only
Freddy to teach, and did what I liked! But they were friends,"--and a
home-sick feeling came over her.

"If ye just turn up your nose at every situation, ye'll never be placed,"
said Mrs. Davidson.

"Oh, perhaps I shall get anot