k in his throat somehow. She
looked quickly up at him, but she too was silent, and he walked a few
steps by her side before he said, "I did not know what day you were
going away."

The rest of the conversation followed in a swift interchange of question
and reply, as if to make up for that pause.

"No, but I thought I should be sure to have a chance of saying
good-bye."

"And I was out. I was very sorry when I came home and found that you
were gone. But since we have met again, it doesn't matter now, does it?"
he said with a smile. "How do you get on at Miss Macgregor's?"

"Oh, very well," she answered. "It will do for the present."

"And Miss Crawford?"

"She will not see me nor hear from me. She is ill and low-spirited, and
Mrs. Barton tells me that a niece has come to look after her."

"Isn't that rather a good thing?"

"No: I don't like it. I saw one or two of those nieces--there are seven
of them--great vulgar, managing women. I can't bear to think of my dear
little Miss Crawford being bullied and nursed by Miss Price. She
couldn't endure them, I know, only she was so fond of their mother."

Percival changed the subject: "So you go to Mrs. Barton's still? I
didn't know that till last Monday."

"When you rescued Janie from imminent peril. Oh, I have heard," said
Judith with a smile.

"Please to describe me as risking my own life in the act. It would be a
pity not to make me heroic while you are about it."

"Janie would readily believe it. She measures her danger by her terror,
which was great. But she is a dear, good child, and it is such a
pleasure to me to go there every week!"

"Ah! Then you are not happy at Miss Macgregor's?"

"Well, not very. But it might be much worse. And I am mercenary enough
to think about the money I earn at Mrs. Barton's," said Judith. "I don't
mind telling you now that Bertie left two or three little bills unpaid
when he went away, and I was very anxious about them. But, luckily, they
were small."

"You don't mind telling me now. Are they paid, then?"

"Yes, and I have not heard of any more."

"You paid them out of your earnings?"

"Yes. You understand me, don't you, Mr. Thorne? Bertie and I were
together then, and I could not take Emmeline's money to pay our debts."

"Yes, I understand."

"And I had saved a little. It is all right now, since they are all paid.
I fancied there would be some more to come in, but it seems not, so I
have a pound or two to spare, an