"You're surprised to see me, of course?" Saluting Emily in thoseterms, Francine looked round the parlor with an air of satiricalcuriosity. "Dear me, what a little place to live in!"

"What brings you to London?" Emily inquired.

"You ought to know, my dear, without asking. Why did I try tomake friends with you at school? And why have I been trying eversince? Because I hate you--I mean because I can't resist you--no!I mean because I hate myself for liking you. Oh, never mind myreasons. I insisted on going to London with Miss Ladd--when thathorrid woman announced that she had an appointment with herlawyer. I said, 'I want to see Emily.' 'Emily doesn't like you.''I don't care whether she likes me or not; I want to see her.'That's the way we snap at each other, and that's how I alwayscarry my point. Here I am, till my duenna finishes her businessand fetches me. What a prospect for You! Have you got any coldmeat in the house? I'm not a glutton, like Cecilia--but I'mafraid I shall want some lunch."

"Don't talk in that way, Francine!"

"Do you mean to say you're glad to see me?"

"If you were only a little less hard and bitter, I should alwaysbe glad to see you."

"You darling! (excuse my impetuosity). What are you looking at?My new dress? Do you envy me?"

"No; I admire the color--that's all."

Francine rose, and shook out her dress, and showed it from everypoint of view. "See how it's made: Paris, of course! Money, mydear; money will do anything--except making one learn one'slessons."

"Are you not getting on any better, Francine?"

"Worse, my sweet friend--worse. One of the masters, I am happy tosay, has flatly refused to teach me any longer. 'Pupils withoutbrains I am accustomed to,' he said in his broken English; 'but apupil with no heart is beyond my endurance.' Ha! ha! the mouldyold refugee has an eye for character, though. No heart--there Iam, described in two words."

"And proud of it," Emily remarked.

"Yes--proud of it. Stop! let me do myself justice. You considertears a sign that one has some heart, don't you? I was very nearcrying last Sunday. A popular preacher did it; no less a personthat Mr. Mirabel--you look as if you had heard of him."

"I have heard of him from Cecilia."

"Is _she_ at Brighton? Then there's one fool more in afashionable watering place. Oh, she's in Switzerland, is she? Idon't care where she is; I only care about Mr. Mirabel. We allheard he was at Brighton for his health, and was going to preach.Didn't we cram the church! As to describing him, I give it up. Heis the only little man I ever admired--hair as long as mine, andthe sort of beard you see in pictures. I wish I had his faircomplexion and his white hands. We were all in love with him--orwith his voice, which was it?--when he began to read thecommandments. I wish I could imitate him when he came to thefifth commandment. He began in his deepest bass voice: 'Honor thyfather--' He stopped and looked up to heaven as if he saw therest of it there. He went on with a tremendous emphasis on thenext word. '_And_ thy mother,' he said (as if that was quite adifferent thing) in a tearful, fluty, quivering voice which was acompliment to mothers in itself. We all felt it, mothers or not.But the great sensation was when he got into the pulpit. Themanner in which he dropped on his knees, and hid his face in hishands, and showed his beautiful rings was, as a young lady saidbehind me, simply seraphic. We understood his celebrity, fromthat moment--I wonder whether I can remember the sermon."

"You needn't attempt it on my account," Emily said.

"My dear, don't be obstinate. Wait till you hear him."

"I am quite content to wait."

"Ah, you're just in the right state of mind to be converted;you're in a fair way to become one of his greatest admirers. Theysay he is so agreeable in private life; I am dying to knowhim.--Do I hear a ring at the bell? Is somebody else coming tosee you?"

The servant brought in a card and a message.

"The person will call again, miss."

Emily looked at the name written on the card.

"Mrs. Ellmother!" she exclaimed.

"What an extraordinary name!' cried Francine. "Who is she?"

"My aunt's old servant."

"Does she want a situation?"

Emily looked at some lines of writing at the back of the card.Doctor Allday had rightly foreseen events. Rejected by thedoctor, Mrs. Ellmother had no alternative but to ask Emily tohelp her.

"If she is out of place," Francine went on, "she may be just thesort of person I am looking for."

"You?" Emily asked, in astonishment.

Francine refused to explain until she got an answer to herquestion. "Tell me first," she said, "is Mrs. Ellmother engaged?"

"No; she wants an engagement, and she asks me to be herreference."

"Is she sober, honest, middle-aged, clean, steady, good-tempered,industrious?" Francine rattled on. "Has she all the virtues, andnone of the vices? Is she not too good-looking, and has she nomale followers? In one terrible word--will she satisfy MissLadd?"

"What has Miss Ladd to do with it?"

"How stupid you are, Emily! Do put the woman's card down on thetable, and listen to me. Haven't I told you that one of mymasters has declined to have anything more to do with me? Doesn'tthat help you to understand how I get on with the rest of them? Iam no longer Miss Ladd's pupil, my dear. Thanks to my lazinessand my temper, I am to he raised to the dignity of 'a parlorboarder.' In other words, I am to be a young lady who patronizesthe school; with a room of my own, and a servant of my own. Allpr ovided for by a private arrangement between my father and MissLadd, before I left the West Indies. My mother was at the bottomof it, I have not the least doubt. You don't appear to understandme."

"I don't, indeed!"

Francine considered a little. "Perhaps they were fond of you athome," she suggested.

"Say they loved me, Francine--and I loved them."

"Ah, my position is just the reverse of yours. Now they have gotrid of me, they don't want me back again at home. I know as wellwhat my mother said to my father, as if I had heard her.'Francine will never get on at school, at her age. Try her, byall means; but make some other arrangement with Miss Ladd in caseof a failure--or she will be returned on our hands like a badshilling.' There is my mother, my anxious, affectionate mother,hit off to a T."

"She _is_ your mother, Francine; don't forget that."

"Oh, no; I won't forget it. My cat is my kitten's mother--there!there! I won't shock your sensibilities. Let us get back tomatter of fact. When I begin my new life, Miss Ladd makes onecondition. My maid is to be a model of discretion--an elderlywoman, not a skittish young person who will only encourage me. Imust submit to the elderly woman, or I shall be sent back to theWest Indies after all. How long did Mrs. Ellmother live with youraunt?"

"Twenty-five years, and more.'

"Good heavens, it's a lifetime! Why isn't this amazing creatureliving with you, now your aunt is dead? Did you send her away?"

"Certainly not."

"Then why did she go?"

"I don't know."

"Do you mean that she went away without a word of explanation?"

"Yes; that is exactly what I mean."

"When did she go? As soon as your aunt was dead?"

"That doesn't matter, Francine."

"In plain English, you won't tell me? I am all on fire withcuriosity--and that's how you put me out! My dear, if you havethe slightest regard for me, let us have the woman in here whenshe comes back for her answer. Somebody must satisfy me. I meanto make Mrs. Ellmother explain herself."

"I don't think you will succeed, Francine."

"Wait a little, and you will see. By-the-by, it is understoodthat my new position at the school gives me the privilege ofaccepting invitations. Do you know any nice people to whom youcan introduce me?"

"I am the last person in the world who has a chance of helpingyou," Emily answered. "Excepting good Doctor Allday--" On thepoint of adding the name of Alban Morris, she checked herselfwithout knowing why, and substituted the name of herschool-friend. "And not forgetting Cecilia," she resumed, "I knownobody."

"Cecilia's a fool," Francine remarked gravely; "but now I thinkof it, she may be worth cultivating. Her father is a member ofParliament--and didn't I hear that he has a fine place in thecountry? You see, Emily, I may expect to be married (with mymoney), if I can only get into good society. (Don't suppose I amdependent on my father; my marriage portion is provided for in myuncle's will. Cecilia may really be of some use to me. Whyshouldn't I make a friend of her, and get introduced to herfather--in the autumn, you know, when the house is full ofcompany? Have you any idea when she is coming back?"

"No."

"Do you think of writing to her?"

"Of course!"

"Give her my kind love; and say I hope she enjoys Switzerland."

"Francine, you are positively shameless! After calling my dearestfriend a fool and a glutton, you send her your love for your ownselfish ends; and you expect me to help you in deceiving her! Iwon't do it."

"Keep your temper, my child. We are all selfish, you littlegoose. The only difference is--some of us own it, and some of usdon't. I shall find my own way to Cecilia's good graces quiteeasily: the way is through her mouth. You mentioned a certainDoctor Allday. Does he give parties? And do the right sort of mengo to them? Hush! I think I hear the bell again. Go to the door,and see who it is."

Emily waited, without taking any notice of this suggestion. Theservant announced that "the person had called again, to know ifthere was any answer."

"Show her in here," Emily said.

The servant withdrew, and came back again.

"The person doesn't wish to intrude, miss; it will be quitesufficient if you will send a message by me."

Emily crossed the room to the door.

"Come in, Mrs. Ellmother," she said. "You have been too long awayalready. Pray come in."