Her little stock of money had sadly dwindled; eighteen shillings and
her trinkets stood between her and want. She had fought and had been
vanquished; there was nothing left for her to do but to write to Mrs
Devitt and ask if the offer, that had been mentioned in her last
letter to Miss Mee, still held good. During all these weeks of weary
effort, Mavis had been largely kept up by the thought that she was a
sparrow, who could not fall to the ground without the knowledge of
the Most High. Now, it seemed to her that she could sustain her
flight but a little while longer; yet, so far as she could see,
there was no one to whom her extremity seemed to matter in the
least.

Apart from her desire to earn a living, the girl had struggled
resolutely in order that she should not seek work of the Devitts.
She disliked the family; she had resolved to apply to them only as a
last resource.

She had gone one day to Brandenburg College to call on her old
employers, but she found that the name-plate had been removed, and
that the house was to let. She had made inquiries, to learn that her
old friend Miss Annie Mee had died suddenly at Worthing, and also
that Miss Helen had sold the school for what it would fetch, and no
one knew what had become of her. Mavis grieved at the loss of her
friend, but not so deeply, or for so long, as she would if she had
not been consumed with anxiety on her own account. She had not
forgotten Mr Goss's offer of help: she had called at his house
twice, to learn on each occasion that he was out of town. Presently,
Mrs Ellis came in; finding Mavis moping, she asked her to the
downstairs sitting-room for a cup of tea. The girl gladly went: she
sat by the window watching the men working in the yard behind, while