ructure in the distance.

"Ain't it beautiful?" asked Miss Nippett.

"Y--yes," assented Mavis.

"Almost as good as reel country."

"Almost."

"Why, I declare, you can see the 'Scrubbs': you are in luck to-day."

"What's the 'Scrubbs'?"

"The 'Scrubbs' prison. Oh, I say, you are ignorant!"

"I'm afraid I am," sighed Mavis.

"It ain't often you can see the 'Scrubbs' at this time of year 'cause
of the fog," remarked Miss Nippett, whose eyes were still glued to the
window.

Presently, when she drew the curtains, she looked contentedly round the
little room before saying:

"I often think that, after all, there's no place like a good 'ome."

"If you're lucky enough to have one," assented Mavis heartfully.

"Sometimes I like it even better than 'Poulter's'; you know, when
you've got a waltz in your 'ead, and 'ate it, and 'ave to play it over
and over again. But every bit of this here furniture is mine and paid
for."

"Really?" asked Mavis, feigning surprise to please her friend.

"I can show you the receipts if you don't b'lieve me."

"But I do."

"Being at the academy makes me business-like. But there! if I haven't
forgotten something; reelly I 'ave."

"What?"

"One moment: let me bring the light."

Miss Nippett led the way to the landing immediately outside her door,
where she unlocked a roomy cupboard, crammed to its utmost capacity
with odds and ends of cheap feminine adornment. Mangy evening boas,
flimsy wraps, down-at-heel dancing shoes, handkerchiefs, gloves, powder
puffs, and odd bits of ribbon were jumbled together in heaped disorder.

"D'ye know what they is?" asked Miss Nippett.

"Give it up," replied Mavis.

"They're the 'overs.'"

"What on earth's that?"

"Oh, I say, you are ignorant; reelly you are. 'Overs' is what's left
and unclaimed at 'Poulter's.'"

"Really?"

"They're my 'perk,'" which last word Mavis took to be an abbreviation
of perquisite.

Mavis looked curiously at the heap of forgotten finery: had she lately
lived among more prosperous surroundings, she might have glanced
contemptuously at this collection of tawdry flummery; but, if her
sordid struggles to make both ends meet had taught her nothing else,
they had given her a keen sympathy for all forms of endeavour, however
humble, to escape, if only for a crowded hour, from the debasing round
of uncongenial toil. Consequently, she looked with soft eyes at the
pile of unclaimed "overs." None knew better than she of