ds of languid,
indiscriminating praise of Rose's picture, and then bow himself out. He
examined the picture closely, and looked at her thoughtfully and
attentively out of the dark gray eyes, the only good feature in his
face. The next moment, to Hester Jennings's great edification, he
addressed Rose seriously as a member of the Guild of St. Luke--not an
amateur, "one of ourselves, so that you must not mind what I say to you,
Miss Millar." He first displayed a generous capacity for discovering
something good, whether it were to be found in the work of a tyro or of
a veteran. Next he took the trouble of pointing out the faults, and
urging their remedy, telling her the picture was worth the pains of
making it as true as possible, until Rose hung her head in blended pride
and humility.

What was more, he offered to enter into negotiations with a
picture-dealer on her behalf, and brought them to a triumphant
conclusion, making Rose happy with so fair a price as materially to
lighten the millstone of her resigned office at the Misses Stone's
hanging round her neck.

It was settled that May should go home and profit by the coaching which
awaited her at Redcross, taking the chance of finding some little boys
whose Latin grammar would be the better of her supervision.

Next Mr. Pemberton wrote that Lady Mary had been so charmed with the
neighbourhood of Redcross, and had spoken so highly of it to one of her
cousins, who had a great liking for English landscape, and was just
refurnishing his town house, that he wished to commission a set of
water-colour sketches of such and such spots for his morning-room. It
was Mr. Pemberton's opinion that Miss Rose Millar could execute the
commission to Sir John Neville's satisfaction, if she cared to accept of
it.

"It is to help me," said Rose humbly, "for there are hundreds of good
artists who would take the work and be thankful, and do it far better,
though I will do my very best. Tom Robinson is at the bottom of it
directly or indirectly, but he is like an old friend. I don't know a man
to whom I would sooner be obliged."

In the third instance, a totally unforeseen application was made to
Annie. A fever, in certain respects unfamiliar in its type, broke out at
Stokeleigh, one of several suburban villages on the outskirts of
Redcross. Some authorities called the fever Russian, and declared it had
been imported--they did not pretend to say how--from that remote empire.
Others insist