; and, as Mrs. Ryan
backed her up, Stella gave way.

'Baines & Jones are a very good firm to work for, and they look after
their people well. After all, why shouldn't they? They're rich enough,
and it's good policy, for they get well served; so you may eat this
lunch quite comfortably, for they say you are the best lady they've had
for a long time; you know French so well, and you write first-rate
business letters. So you've earned your lunch for that, if you hadn't
earned it by coming through such an awful fog to-day,' explained Mrs.
Ryan, as she served lunch for the two sisters.

Mrs. Ryan would not exactly say, as her master told her, that it was the
custom to give lunch; in fact, at sight of the menu she was told to get
she was half-afraid Miss Wharton would refuse it, for chicken and
cherry-tart with cream, followed by coffee and dessert, was rather a
grand lunch to send in for a City clerk.

But Stella in her ignorance supposed it was usual; City dinners always
were rich, like the givers, she knew.

'Isn't this lovely? I wish it would often be a fog; this is better than
going to a stuffy restaurant,' announced Vava; and Mrs. Ryan determined
to tell the kind-hearted giver of the pleasure his lunch had given.

But there was more pleasure to come. In about an hour the motor came
back for them, and they started off very slowly. After a quarter of an
hour they came to a stop, owing to a block at one of the bridges over
the Thames.

'It's funny it should be so thick here; it's lovely a few miles out,'
said the chauffeur, turning to address his passengers.

'How I wish we were a few miles out too, then!' cried Vava impulsively.

The two girls did not see a half-amused look that came into the staid
and respectable man's eyes as he replied, 'Well, miss, I have to take a
run down to Brighton, and if you would let me turn off south over this
bridge I could take you there almost as soon as I could take you home at
the rate we're going, and perhaps by the time we got back it would be
fine again?'

Put like this, it sounded almost a favour to the chauffeur to let him
get his business over first; though, perhaps, if they had had time to
think, Stella at least would have bethought her that Brighton was
slightly out of the way from the City to Westminster!

But Vava's cry of 'Oh do, Stella, do! I should so like to see the sea
again,' settled it.

'There's plenty of rugs there, miss,' said the man, as he turned over
t