of poverty, but a quality of sincerity and
kindliness in Grizel's hazel eyes prompted an unwonted confidence. She
heard herself saying quite simply and naturally:

"There is something besides poverty, Mrs Beverley! My father was a
plumber. Quite in a big way, of course, but still,--he was in trade.
He was a very good father; he educated me well and left me enough to
live on. I'm grateful to him, but,--you can understand--"

Grizel gave a soft little _move_ of appreciation.

"A _good_ plumber.--A plumber with principles... Oh, you _must_ be
proud! I've travelled all over the world, but I never heard of such a
thing before. All the other plumbers I've heard of have brought misery
on everyone who knew them... You must certainly come to see me, and
tell me all about him, and I'll call on you too, and see his
photograph... Had he a chin beard?"

Miss Bruce's gratification was merged in stunned surprise.

"Chin--beard?"

"They always have. Haven't you noticed? If your father hadn't, that
makes him more wonderful still. And where is your house, Miss--"

"Bruce. In Rose Lane. Near the Men's Institute. A little house with a
green porch. You wouldn't have noticed--"

"I've just come, you see," Grizel apologised, "and I've been busy about
my own little house. I'll show it to you, and you must show me yours.
When will you come to tea?"

Miss Bruce stood silent, struggling between a longing to name a date,
clinch the invitation, and wave a flag of triumph in the eyes of her
enemies, and some softer feeling which forebade taking advantage of the
ignorance of a new-comer. She looked down at the young happy face, at
the slim young body in its dainty trappings, and a rare impulse of
tenderness stirred in her dried heart. People said that Mrs Beverley
had been born to a great fortune, had lived in luxury among the highest
in the land, but she gave herself fewer airs than many upstarts in
semi-detached villas. One good turn deserved another. Miss Bruce rose
to unexampled heights of sacrifice.

"It is very kind of you--I appreciate it, but I'd better not! The
gentlefolk don't know me, don't want to. If they met me sitting in your
drawing-room it would be awkward for everybody concerned."

Grizel elevated expressive eyebrows.

"I choose my own friends. No one has a right to dictate. I'll drive
over for you some day, and carry you off whether you want to or not.
You could help me so much! There are th