Mrs. Mills ordered the hat to be put on that she might ascertain whether it suited, and this done, and guarded approval given, asked to be allowed to try it on her own head. Here, again, the results, inspected in the large mirror set in a narrow wooden frame above the mantelpiece, gained commendation; Mrs. Mills declared she would feel inclined to purchase a similar hat, only that Praed Street might say she was looking for a second husband. Besides, she never went out. 

 "Your poor mother was just as handy with her needle as what you are. We'd go along together to have a look at the shops in Oxford Street, and the moment she returned home, she'd set to work, and alter something to make it look fashionable." Mrs. Mills sighed.  "Little good it brought her, though, in the long run." 

 "I am sure," remarked the girl quickly, "it never brought her any harm." 

 "Didn't help to get hold of anybody better than your father, at any rate. But they're both gone, and it's no use talking." 

 Some one entered the shop. 

 "Your friend Miss Radford," she announced.  "Now there won't be a chance for any one else to speak." 

 The visitor justified the prophecy, by entering the parlour with a breathless "Oh, I've got such news!" checking herself on encountering Mrs. Mills. Mrs. Mills asked, with reserve, concerning the health of Miss Radford's mother, and mentioned (not apparently for the first time) that the lady, in her opinion, ought to be living on a gravel soil. Miss Radford, obviously suffering from repressed information, promised to deliver the advice, word for word, and in the meantime gave her own warm thanks. 

 "Old nuisance!" she remarked, as the half-curtained door closed.  "I wonder how you can put up with her." 

 "My aunt is very good to me." 

 "Isn't it a pity," said the visitor inconsequently, "that you're so short? Well, not exactly short, but certainly only about middle height. I think"—she glanced at the mirror complacently—"my idea is it's partly because I'm tall that I attract so much notice. I'm sure the way they gaze round after I'm gone by—Well, it used to make me feel quite confused, but I've got over that. You don't have to put up with such experiences, Gertie." 

 "Afraid I forget to turn to see if they're looking." 

 "You've got rather a 

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