would be much better to arrive at an understanding before they sat
down to the meal. She entered the room and found Louise leaning on
the back of a chair.

'I dare say you heard the row,' Miss Derrick remarked coldly. 'I'm
very sorry, but nothing of that kind shall happen again.'

Her countenance was disturbed, she seemed to be putting a restraint
upon herself, and only with great effort to subdue her voice.

'What are you going to do?' asked Emmeline, in a friendly tone, but,
as it were, from a distance.

'I am going to ask you to do me a great kindness, Mrs. Mumford.'

There was no reply. The girl paused a moment, then resumed
impulsively.

'Mr. Higgins says that if I don't come home, he won't let me have
any more money. They're going to write and tell you that they won't
be responsible after this for my board and lodging. Of course I
shall not go home; I shouldn't dream of it; I'd rather earn my
living as--as a scullery maid. I want to ask you, Mrs. Mumford,
whether you will let me stay on, and trust me to pay what I owe you.
It won't be for very long, and I promise you I _will_ pay, every
penny.'

The natural impulse of Emmeline's disposition was to reply with
hospitable kindliness; she found it very difficult to maintain her
purpose; it shamed her to behave like the ordinary landlady, to