ther forbidding light in her eye,
I thought. But I had struck the right note in that word
'indispensable.'

'Oh, she's very welcome to go, for me, Mr. Freydon; and I'm sure it's
very kind of you to ask her. Girls nowadays don't do so much when they
are at work but what it's easy enough to spare 'em. But, haven't you
got a tongue, miss? Why don't you thank Mr. Freydon?'

'No, indeed,' I laughed. 'The thanks are coming from me. I'll just go
back to my room and write a letter, and you will let me know as soon
as you're ready, won't you, Fanny?'

Well, I can honestly say that I thoroughly enjoyed that little outing.
I thought there never had been any one who was so easily pleased and
entertained. Doubtless her worshipful attitude flattered my youthful
vanity. But, apart from this, it was a real delight to see the flush
of enjoyment come and go in her pale, pretty face, when we rode on the
top of an omnibus, examined flowers in the park, and sat down to a
meal with the preparation and removal of which she was to have no
concern whatever. It was a pretty and touching sight, I say, to see
how these very simple pleasures delighted her. But I very soon learned
that this experience must not be repeated. Indeed, it was in this wise
that I obtained my first inklings of the real wretchedness of Fanny's
life. She had to suffer constant humiliations for a week or more, as
the price of the little jaunt she had with me. Her mother found it
hard to forget or forgive the fact that her daughter had had an hour
or two of freedom and enjoyment. Realisation of this made me detest
the woman.

And then, it may have been three months after this little outing,
there came another Sunday incident that moved me. I returned to my
room unexpectedly about six o'clock, having forgotten to take out with
me a certain paper. The house was very silent, and perhaps that made
me walk more softly than usual up the stairs. As I opened my door the
warm, yellow light of the setting sun was slanting across my
writing-table, and in the chair before it sat Fanny, reading a magazine.

My first thought was of irritation. I did not like to see any one
sitting at my writing-table. I was touchy regarding that one spot--the
table, my papers, and so forth. In the same instant irritation gave
place to some quite other feeling, as the sunlight showed me that
tears were rolling down Fanny's pale face.

She sprang to her feet in great confusion, murmuring almost passion