lying on a couch for two years unable to move. Yet she has
herself wheeled into the drawing-room and watches the
gentlemen play cards. She plays herself sometimes!"

Miss Loach again directed one of her piercing looks at the
pale face of the girl. "You are too inquisitive and too
talkative," she said suddenly, "therefore you won't suit me.
Good-day."

Susan was quite taken aback. "Oh, ma'am, I hope I've said
nothing wrong. I only answered your questions."

"You evidently take note of everything you see, and talk about
it."

"No, ma'am," said the girl earnestly. "I really hold my
tongue."

"When it suits you," retorted Miss Loach. "Hold it now and
let me think!"

While Miss Loach, staring frowningly into the fire, debated
inwardly as to the advisability of engaging the girl, Susan
looked timidly round the room. Curiously enough, it was
placed in the basement of the cottage, and was therefore below
the level of the garden. Two fairly large windows looked on
to the area, which had been roofed with glass and turned into
a conservatory. Here appeared scarlet geraniums and other
bright-hued flowers, interspersed with ferns and delicate
grasses. Owing to the position of the room and the presence