should
have heard more, if I had not fallen asleep. What is she going to do?"

"To live in a dull house, far away in the north," Cecilia answered;
"with only old people in it. She will have to write and translate for a
great scholar, who is studying mysterious inscriptions--hieroglyphics,
I think they are called--found among the ruins of Central America. It's
really no laughing matter, Francine! Emily made a joke of it, too. 'I'll
take anything but a situation as a governess,' she said; 'the children
who have Me to teach them would be to be pitied indeed!' She begged and
prayed me to help her to get an honest living. What could I do? I could
only write home to papa. He is a member of Parliament: and everybody
who wants a place seems to think he is bound to find it for them. As it
happened, he had heard from an old friend of his (a certain Sir Jervis
Redwood), who was in search of a secretary. Being in favor of letting
the women compete for employment with the men, Sir Jervis was willing to
try, what he calls, 'a female.' Isn't that a horrid way of speaking of
us? and Miss Ladd says it's ungrammatical, besides. Papa had written
back to say he knew of no lady whom he could recommend. When he got my
letter speaking of Emily, he kindly wrote again. In the interval, Sir
Jervis had received two applications for the vacant place. They were
both from old ladies--and he declined to employ them."

"Because they were old," Francine suggested maliciously.

"You shall hear him give his own reasons, my dear. Papa sent me an
extract from his letter. It made me rather angry; and (perhaps for that
reason) I think I can repeat it word for word:--'We are four old people
in this house, and we don't want a fifth. Let us have a young one
to cheer us. If your daughter's friend likes the terms, and is not
encumbered with a sweetheart, I will send for her when the school breaks
up at midsummer.' Coarse and selfish--isn't it? However, Emily didn't
agree with me, when I showed her the extract. She accepted the place,
very much to her aunt's surprise and regret, when that excellent person
heard of it. Now that the time has come (though Emily won't acknowledge
it), I believe she secretly shrinks, poor dear, from the prospect."

"Very likely," Francine agreed--without even a pretense of sympathy.
"But tell me, who are the four old people?"

"First, Sir Jervis himself--seventy, last birthday. Next, his unmarried
sister--nearly eighty. Next, his m