t's rather inconvenient with all the washing-up to do, and as
you know I make it a rule that boarders have to be in to their meals, or
go without--still--"

"Please don't trouble!" Joan said stiffly.

The woman looked up the stairs after the tall, slight figure.

"Very well, then, I won't!" she muttered. "The airs some people give
themselves! Anyone would think she was a lady, instead of a clerk or
something."

There was a letter addressed to Joan waiting for her in her room. She
opened it, and read it.

"DEAR JOAN,

"I suppose you are in a temper with me, and I don't think you have
acted quite fairly. A man can't do more than ask a girl to be his
wife. It is not usually considered an insult; however, I say
nothing, except just this: You won't find it easy to get other
work to do, and if you like to come back here on Monday morning,
the same as usual, I think you will be doing the sensible thing.

"Yours,
"PHILIP SLOTMAN."

She had never meant to go back. This morning she had thanked Heaven that
she had looked her last on Mr. Philip Slotman, and yet a few hours can
effect such changes.

The door was open to her; she could go back, and pick up her life again
where she had dropped it before her journey to Cornbridge. After all,
Slotman was not the only cad in the world. She would find others, it
seemed to her, wherever she went.

At any rate, Slotman had opened the door by which she might re-enter. As
he said, work would be very, very hard to get, and it was a bitter thing
to have to starve.

"Perhaps," she said to herself wearily as she lay down on her bed,
"perhaps I shall go back. It does not seem to matter so very much after
all what I do--and I thought it did."

CHAPTER VI

"THE ONLY POSSIBLE THING"

For the first time since when, as a small, curly-headed boy, Hugh Alston
had looked up at her ladyship with unclouded fearless eyes, that had
appealed instantly to her, he and she were bad friends. Hugh had driven
back to Hurst Dormer after a brief battle with her ladyship. He had seen
Marjorie for a few moments, had soothed her, and told her not to worry,
that it was not her fault. He had kissed her in brotherly fashion, and
had wondered a little at himself for the slight feeling of impatience
against her that came to him. He had never been impatient of her before,
but her tears this afternoon unreasonably annoyed him.

"She's a dear, sweet little so