text, and perhaps a comment.

By an arrangement with Mrs. Conisbee, dinner was down in the parlour
to-day. A luxurious meal, moreover; for in her excitement Virginia
had resolved to make a feast of Monica's birthday. There was a tiny
piece of salmon, a dainty cutlet, and a cold blackcurrant tart.
Virginia, at home a constant vegetarian, took no share of the fish
and meat--which was only enough for one person. Alice, alone
upstairs, made a dinner of gruel.

Monica was to be at Queen's Road, Chelsea, by three o'clock. The
sisters hoped she would return to Lavender Hill with her news, but
that was left uncertain--by Monica herself purposely. As an
amusement, she had decided to keep her promise to Mr. Edmund
Widdowson. She was curious to see him again, and receive a new
impression of his personality. If he behaved as inoffensively as at
Richmond, acquaintance with him might be continued for the variety
it brought into her life. If anything unpleasant happened, she had
only to walk away. The slight, very slight, tremor of anticipation
was reasonably to be prized by a shop-girl at Messrs. Scotcher's.

Drawing near to Queen's Road--the wrapped-up Keble in her hand--
she began to wonder whether Miss Nunn would have any serious
proposal to offer. Virginia's report and ecstatic forecasts were,
she knew, not completely trustworthy; though more than ten years her
sister's junior, Monica saw the world with eyes much less disposed
to magnify and colour ordinary facts.

Miss Barfoot was still from home. Rhoda Nunn received the visitor in
a pleasant, old-fashioned drawing-room, where there was nothing