hand were the
two eagerly awaiting her.

'Mrs. Darby has found a place for Alice,' began Virginia. 'We heard by
the afternoon post yesterday. A lady at Yatton wants a governess for
two young children. Isn't it fortunate?'

'So delightfully convenient for what we were thinking of,' put in the
eldest, with her croaking voice. 'Nothing could have been better.'

'You mean about the school?' said Monica dreamily.

'Yes, the school,' Virginia replied, with trembling earnestness.
'Yatton is convenient both for Clevedon and Weston. Alice will be able
to run over to both places and make enquiries, and ascertain where the
best opening would be.'

Miss Nunn's suggestion, hitherto but timidly discussed, had taken hold
upon their minds as soon as Alice received the practical call to her
native region. Both were enthusiastic for the undertaking. It afforded
them a novel subject of conversation, and inspirited them by seeming to
restore their self-respect. After all, they might have a mission, a
task in the world. They pictured themselves the heads of a respectable
and thriving establishment, with subordinate teachers, with pleasant
social relations; they felt young again, and capable of indefinite
activity. Why had they not thought of this long ago? and thereupon they
reverted to antistrophic laudation of Rhoda Nunn.

'Is it a good place?' their younger sister inquired.

'Oh, pretty good. Only twelve pounds a year, but nice people, Mrs.
Darby says. They want me at once, and it is very likely that in a few
weeks I shall go with them to the seaside.'

'What _could_ have been better?' cried Virginia. 'Her health will be
established, and in half a year, or less, we shall be able to come to a
decision about the great step. Oh, and have you given notice, darling?'

'Yes, I have.'

Both clapped their hands like children. It was an odd little scene on
the London pavement at ten o'clock at night; so intimately domestic
amid surroundings the very antithesis of domesticity. Only a few yards
away, a girl, to whom the pavement was a place of commerce, stood
laughing with two men. The sound of her voice hinted to Monica the
advisability of walking as they conversed, and they moved towards
Walworth Road Station.

'We thought at first,' said Virginia, 'that when Alice had gone you
might like to share my room; but then the distance from Great Portland
Street would be a decided objection. I might move, but we doubt whether
that would be