pounds, and I suppose I need not decide about that
awful manuscript till Monday."

These thoughts had scarcely come into her head before there came a knock
at her door. Florence went to open it, and Edith Franks, very neatly
dressed, and looking business-like and purposeful, with bright eyes and
a clear colour in her cheeks, stood on the threshold.

"How do you do?" she said. "I am just off to my work. I am about to have
a very hard day, but I thought I would refresh myself with a sight of
you. May I come in?"

"Please do," said Florence, but she did not look altogether happy as she
gave the invitation. Her bed was unmade, her dressing things were lying
about, her breakfast was just the sort which she did not wish the
keen-eyed medical student to see. There was no help for it, however.
Edith Franks had come up for the purpose of spying into the nakedness of
the land, and spy she did. She looked quickly round her in that darting,
bird-like manner which characterised all her movements. She saw the
untidy room, she noticed the humble, insufficient meal.

Edith Franks had the kindest heart in the world; but she was sometimes a
little, just a very little destitute of tact.

"My dear," she said, "may I sit down? Your stairs really take one's
breath away. I know now what I specially came for. Tom has promised to
call for me this morning."

"Who is Tom?" asked Florence.

"Don't you know? What a short memory you have! I told you something
about him last night--my clever journalist brother. He is on the staff
of the _Daily Tidings_, and the new six-penny magazine that people talk
so much about, the _Argonaut_. He has a splendid post, and has great
influence. If you will entrust that precious manuscript to me, I will
let Tom see it. He is the best of judges. If he says it is worth
anything, your fortune is made. If, on the other hand--"

"Oh, but he won't like it, and I think I would rather not," said
Florence. She turned very pale as she spoke. Edith gave her another
glance.

"Let me have it," she said. "Tom's seeing it means nothing. I will get
him to run his eye over it while we are at lunch together. Here, get it
for me; there's a good girl."

Florence rose. Her feet seemed weighted with lead. She unlocked her
drawer, took out the manuscript, and nearly flung it at Edith's head.
She restrained herself, however, and stood with it in her hand looking
as undecided as a girl could look.

"You tempt me mightily," she