sister who did not want her, and would often tell her so; her
prospects in life were not bright, and it is sad to think that no
inhabitant of the Orange Street house felt any sorrow at the sight
of the last gesticulating wave of her black bonnet as she stepped
into the old mouldy Polchester cab.

"The King is dead--long live the King!" The Jampot as a power in the
Cole family has ceased to be.

The day following the Jampot's departure offered up the news that,
for the first time in the history of the Coles, there was to be a
governess. The word "governess" had an awful sound, and the children
trembled with a mixture of delight and terror. Jeremy pretended
indifference.

"It's only another woman," he said. "She'll be like the Jampot--
only, a lady, so she won't be able to punish us as the Jampot
could."

I expect that Mr. and Mrs. Cole had great difficulty in finding
anyone who would do. Thirty years ago governesses were an incapable
race, and belonged too closely either to the Becky Sharp or the
Amelia type to be very satisfactory. It was then that the New Woman
was bursting upon the scene, but she was not to be found amongst the
governesses. No one in Polchester had learnt yet to cycle in
rational costume, it was several years before the publication of
"The Heavenly Twins," and Mr. Trollope's Lilys and Lucys were still
considered the ideal of England's maidenhood. Mrs. Cole, therefore,
had to choose between idiotic young women and crabbed old maids, and
she finally chose an old maid. I don't think that Miss Jones was the