air. My dear,
it's no use. What's the use of paying two guineas to hear a man tell
you to do a dozen things which are hopelessly impossible? It's paying
good money only to be aggravated and depressed. If it comes to that, I
can prescribe for myself without paying a sou... Knock off all work for
a year. Go to Egypt, or some perfectly dry climate, and build up your
strength. Always get out of London for the winter months. Live in the
fresh air, and avoid fatigue... How's that? Doesn't that strike you as
admirable advice?"

She put her head on one side with a gallant attempt at a smile, but her
lips twitched, and the flare of the incandescent light showed her face
lined and drawn with pain. Claire was silent, her heart cramping with
pain. The clock ticked on for several minutes, before she asked
softly--

"Have you no savings, Sophie? No money to keep you if you _did_ take a
rest?"

"Not a sou. It's all I can do to struggle along. I told you I had to
help a young sister, and things run up so quickly, that it doesn't seem
possible to save. I suppose many people would say one ought to be able
to do it on a hundred a year; that's all I have left for myself!
Hundreds of women manage on less, but as a rule they come from a
different class, and can put up with a style of living which would be
intolerable to us. I don't complain of the pay. I don't think it is
bad as things go: it's only when illness comes that one looks ahead and
feels--frightened! Suppose I broke down now, suppose I broke down in
ten years' time! I should be over forty, and after working hard for
twenty years I should be left without a penny piece; thrown on the scrap
heap, as a worn-out thing that was no more use. But I might still live
on, years upon years. Oh, dear! why did you make me think of it? It
does no good; only gives one the hump. There _is_ no Pension scheme, so
I simply can't afford to be ill. That's the end of it."

"Don't you think if you went to Miss Farnborough, and explained to
her--"

Sophie turned a flushed, protesting face.

"Never! Not for the world, and you mustn't either. Promise me
faithfully that you will never give so much as a hint. Miss Farnborough
is a capital head, but her great consideration is for the pupils; we
only count in so far as we are valuable to them. She'd be sorry for me,
of course, and would give me quite a lot of advice, but she'd think at
once, `If she's rheumatic, she won't b