"Yes," said Dolly. She knew she need not hesitate to say that, at least.

"You are good company and are fond of society?"

"I am fond of society," said Dolly, "and I hope I am 'good company,'"

"You don't easily lose patience?"

"It depends upon circumstances," said Dolly.

"You can play and sing?"

"I did both the night I met you," returned the young person.

"So you did," said Miss MacDowlas, and examined her again.

It was rather an odd interview, upon the whole, but it did not end
unfortunately. Miss MacDowlas wanted a companion who was quick-witted
and amusing, and, having seen that Dolly was both on the evening of the
Bilberry clan gathering, she had taken a fancy to her. So after a little
sharp questioning, she announced her decision. She would employ her to
fill the vacant situation at the same rate of salary she had enjoyed
in her position of governess to the youthful Bilberrys, and she would
employ her at once.

"I want somebody to amuse me," she said, "and I think you can do it.
I am often an invalid, and my medical man says the society of a young
person will benefit me."

So it was settled that the following week Dolly should take up her abode
at Brabazon Lodge and enter upon the fulfilment of her duties. She
was to read, play, sing, assist in the entertainment of visitors, and
otherwise make herself generally useful, and, above all, she was to be
amusing.

She left the house and proceeded homeward in a peculiar frame of mind.
She could have laughed, but she was compelled to admit to herself that
she could also have cried with equal readiness. She had met with an
adventure indeed. She was a young person at large no longer; henceforth
she was the property of the elderly dragon she had so often laughed at
with Griffith. And yet the dragon had not been so objectionable, after
all. She had been abrupt and unceremonious, but she had been better than
Lady Augusta, and she had not shown herself illiberal. But there would
be no more daily visits from Griffith, no more _tete-a-tetes_ in the
shabby parlor, no more sitting by the fire when the rest had left the
room, no more tender and inconsistently long farewells at the front
door. It was not pleasant to think about. She found herself catching her
breath quickly, with a sound like a little sob.

"He will miss it awfully," she said to herself, holding her muff closely
with her small, cold hands, and shutting her eyes to work away a tear;
"but he won't