guidance if ever the need for such should arise.”

Miss Nancy Poskett, clearly suspecting the nature of this tribute, bowed distantly to Mr. Clark, and sat down in a corner.

“’Ave you come straight ’ome from Wicklett & Sharp’s, Nancy!” asked Mrs. Poskett, mistrustfully.

“I came back by way of East Street, aunt.”

“Meet anyone you know?” inquired Mrs. Poskett.

“One or two people,” replied the girl, carelessly.

“And ’oo were they, pray?” demanded Mrs. Poskett, at once.

“Oh, no one you know, aunt,” replied Nancy, and began to fidget with her brooch.

“Why, you’re wearing a ring!” shrilled her aunt at that, and the girl quickly concealed her hand. “A new ring!” went on the elder lady in awesome tones. “And on your engagement finger!”

“Yes,” said Nancy, “that was the finger it was meant for.”

There was a scandalized little wait. Mr. and Mrs. Poskett shook their heads, muttering inchoately. Mr. Clark gazed upon the mutinous damsel with but thinly veiled admiration for her courage. Just as Mr. Poskett cleared his throat and drew a deep, long breath, thereby p. 38intimating that he had garnered a few fitting phrases for immediate use, the girl rose and strolled to the door.

p. 38

“I’m just going upstairs to put on my other hat and my coat,” she mentioned, casually.

“You—you’re not going out again, Nancy?” quavered Mrs. Poskett, aghast. “Why, it’s a quarter to eight!”

“I want to run out and post a letter, aunt.”

“Dressing up to go and post a letter!” groaned Mrs. Poskett, sepulchrally.

“Mr. Clark will drop it in the post for you on his way back,” said Mr. Poskett.

“Thanks, but it’s rather special,” returned the girl; and passing out of the room, she closed the door quietly after her.

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