had glanced up at the large houses, and wished she lived in one; in that case she would receive Henry Douglass, at the end of the silence that had come since the last meeting, and after listening to him, reject his advances haughtily. That was the phrase. Reject his advances haughtily. She had read it more than once in the literature which attracted her in the days before Henry. Since she had known him, a course of reading, adopted at his suggestion, took her away from the more flowery and romantic pages, but in the old serial stories the folk had nothing to do but to make love to each other, with intervals for meals and rest; they were not restricted to evening hours; the whole day was at their service. And certainly the ladies never found themselves burdened with the anxiety of losing a weekly wage, in Great Titchfield Street, and the prospect of difficulty in finding one to replace it. 

 "I'm home, aunt," she announced, entering the shop. 

 "So I see," remarked Mrs. Mills. Two customers were being served at the newspaper counter, and two were waiting on the tobacco side. Gertie attended to the orders for cigarettes; the shop cleared. 

 "Is there a letter for me?" she asked. 

 Mrs. Mills shook her head curtly. 

 "Has—has any one called?" 

 "Now, let me think."  Her aunt deliberated carefully in the manner of a conscientious witness impressed by the taking of the oath.  "Yes, Miss Radford looked in and went again. Left word that she wanted you to go with her for an outing next Saturday afternoon. Said she wanted a breath of fresh air. Mr. Trew is inside—and that reminds me, I've got something to say to him. Wait here, like a dear, and look after the shop."  Mrs. Mills closed the door carefully behind her as she went into the parlour. 

 "So, Mr. Trew, I packed him off about his business," she said, obviously continuing a half-finished recital.  "I said, 'She asked me to tell you that she thought it better for both parties that you and her shouldn't see each other again.'  Don't blame me, do you?" 

 Mr. Trew rubbed his chin with the knuckle of a finger and remarked that, by rights, he ought to have a shave. 

 "I stopped his two letters when they came," went on Mrs. Mills.  "Many a woman in my position would have been curious enough to open them; I didn't. I simply put them in a drawer where they can be found when the trouble's 

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