hair!' she says. 'Yes, miss,' I says, 'have you any objection?' I says.
'Ma won't let you have a fringe,' she says. When I loses my temper, and I
says, 'Well, Miss Himperence, you can go and tell your ma that she can
find a servant as can do without a fringe.'"

"Oh, I say!" etc., etc., etc.

They also made critical remarks on Fan's appearance, wondering what a
"young lady" wanted among servants. She felt no pride at being taken for
a lady; she had no feeling and no thought that gave her any pleasure, but
only a dull aching at the heart, only the wish in her mind to find
something to do and save herself from utter destitution.

For three days she continued to attend at the office, and beyond a short
"Good morning" from the woman that kept it each day, not a word was
spoken to her. The third day was Saturday, when the office would close
early; and after twelve o'clock, seeing that the others were all going,
she too left, to spend the time as best she could until the following
Monday. The day was windless and bright, and full of the promise of
spring. Not feeling hungry she did not return to her lodgings, but went
for a short walk in Kensington Gardens. Leaving the Broad Walk, she went
into that secluded spot near the old farm-like buildings of Kensington
Palace and sat down on one of the seats among the yews and fir trees. The
new gate facing Bayswater Hill has changed that spot now, making it more
public, but it was very quiet on that day as she sat there by herself. On
that beautiful spring morning her heart seemed strangely heavy, and her
life more lonely and desolate than ever. The memory of her loss came over
her like a bitter flood, and covering her face with her hands she gave
free vent to her grief. There was no person near, no one to be attracted
by her sobs. But one person was passing at some distance, and glancing in