Miss Shepperson followed the children with her look as they silently left
the room. She knew not how to enter upon what she had to say. To talk of
the law and use threats in this atmosphere of serene domesticity seemed
impossibly harsh. But the necessity of broaching the disagreeable subject
was spared her.

'My husband and I were talking about you last night,' began Mrs. Rymer, as
soon as the door had closed, in a tone of the friendliest confidence. 'I
had an idea; it seems to me so good. I wonder whether it will to you? You
told me, did you not, that you live in lodgings, and quite alone?'

'Yes,' replied Miss Shepperson, struggling to command her nerves and
betraying uneasy wonder.

'Is it by choice?' asked the soft-voiced lady, with sympathetic bending of
the head. 'Have you no relations in London? I can't help thinking you must
feel very lonely.'

It was not difficult to lead Miss Shepperson to talk of her
circumstances--a natural introduction to the announcement which she was
still resolved to make with all firmness. She narrated in outline the
history of her family, made known exactly how she stood in pecuniary
matters, and ended by saying--

'You see, Mrs. Rymer, that I have to live as carefully as I can. This house
is really all I have to depend upon, and--and--'

Again she was spared the unpleasant utterance. With an irresistible smile,
and laying her soft hand on the visitor's ill-fitting glove, Mrs. Rymer
began to reveal the happy thought which had occurred to her. In the house