we leave. Annie we must have, for she's a perfect jewel
of tact, and so sweetly pretty, just like a red rose, while I'm a
fierce--very fierce--tiger lily. Nora must come, too, because, of
course, Squire Lorrimer will visit us for the sake of seeing his child.
Mother shall propose to Sir John Thornton, and he will further suggest
to Mrs. Lorrimer, that Nora would be the better for the best surgical
advice. Hey presto! the thing is delightfully managed. Antonia, my dear,
you begin to see daylight, don't you?"

Antonia skipped away in high good humour, and, wonderful to relate, her
different little schemes for collecting a party to accompany her mother
and herself to town were all carried out without hitch or difficulty.
Annie, of course, was only too delighted to spend her last few days of
holiday in London, and Nora, who had never been there, quite forgave
Mrs. Bernard Temple for becoming Hester's stepmother when she heard
that she was going to take her to the "Heart of the World," as she
termed the great metropolis.

On the evening of that same day Antonia, having concluded, as she
considered, an arduous campaign, stood for a moment in earnest
contemplation. "There's only the ring," she said to herself. "I must get
the ring for poor Annie before I go. Now, who will lend me thirty
shillings? I'll try Pinkerton first."

She swept into the room where the tired maid was completing her somewhat
laborious packing, for Mrs. Bernard Temple invariably carried nearly a
houseful of dresses about with her.

"Well, Miss Antonia, what now?" said the maid. "I wish you'd take off
that evening dress, miss, and let me lay it just over the others here in
in this box."

"I can stuff it into my Gladstone bag," said Antonia; "don't trouble
about it. Pinkerton, when were you paid your wages last?"

"Oh, wages, indeed!" said Pinkerton, with a sniff. "Don't talk of em,
Miss Antonia. It's months and months I'm owed, but I suppose it will be
all right when your ma is married to this rich gentleman."

"You haven't got about thirty-two shillings you could spare me?" said
Antonia.

"I couldn't oblige you with thirty-two pence, miss."

Antonia drummed with her fingers on a chest of drawers near which she
was leaning. "And it's such a paltry sum," she muttered--"not worth a
fuss. You ought to have your wages, Pinkerton--it's a shame! I must
speak to mother about them when my mind is a little less burdened. I
have a good deal to think of jus