London. He was,
he thought, going to "write something" about his views. He was very
grateful and much surprised at what she had done to that forbidding
house, and full of hints and intimations that it would not be long
before they moved to something roomier. She was disposed to seek some
sort of salaried employment for Clementina and Miriam at least, but he
would not hear of that. "They must go on and get educated," he said, "if
I have to give up smoking to do it. Perhaps I may manage even without
that." Eleanor, it seemed, had a good prospect of a scholarship at the
London School of Economics that would practically keep her. There would
be no Cambridge for Clementina, but London University might still be
possible with a little pinching, and the move to London had really
improved the prospects of a good musical training for Miriam. Phoebe and
Daphne, Lady Ella believed, might get in on special terms at the Notting
Hill High School.

Scrope found it difficult to guess at what was going on in the heads
of his younger daughters. None displayed such sympathy as Eleanor had
confessed. He had a feeling that his wife had schooled them to say
nothing about the change in their fortunes to him. But they quarrelled
a good deal, he could hear, about the use of the one bathroom--there was
never enough hot water after the second bath. And Miriam did not seem to
enjoy playing the new upright piano in the drawing-room as much as
she had done the Princhester grand it replaced. Though she was always
willing to play that thing he liked; he knew now that it was the Adagio
of Of. 111; whenever he asked for it.

London servants, Lady Ella found, were now much more difficult to get
than they had been in the Holy Innocents' days in St. John's Wood. And
more difficult to manage when they were got. The households of the more
prosperous clergy are much sought after by domestics of a serious and
excellent type; an unfrocked clergyman's household is by no means
so attractive. The first comers were young women of unfortunate
dispositions; the first cook was reluctant and insolent, she went before
her month was up; the second careless; she made burnt potatoes and
cindered chops, underboiled and overboiled eggs; a "dropped" look about
everything, harsh coffee and bitter tea seemed to be a natural aspect of
the state of being no longer a bishop. He would often after a struggle
with his nerves in the bedroom come humming cheerfully to breakfast, to
f