"I hadn't much when I came, and I suppose I've been extravagant." "You have been that." "You see,"--despite herself Nora sighed--"I haven't been used to economy." "Any one could see that with half-an-eye; I shouldn't be surprised to learn that you're one of those who've been used to spend as much as five pounds a week." "I'm afraid I am. "Then of course there's excuses. We can't get out of ways like that with a hop, skip and a jump; it's not to be expected. But haven't you got any friends who'd help you?" "I haven't a friend to whom I can apply for help." "I should have thought you were the kind who'd have had lots of friends. Have you fell out with them?" "I thought my father was a rich man; but when he died--it was only a very little while ago--it appeared that he wasn't; so I have to make my own way in the world, and that is how I came to Swan Street." "I know them fathers; I had one of my own, and he wasn't of any account; though I will say this, I always liked him." "I have been trying to find something by means of which I could earn enough money to keep me. I hoped to have found it before now, but I haven't, and that's the trouble." "What sort of work have you been looking for?" "I've been endeavouring to get a post as secretary, among other things, and I've answered no end of advertisements, but nothing has come of one of them." "Secretary? what's that? The notices that the water'll be cut off if it's not paid for, they're signed by a secretary; I always took him to be some kind of a bailiff." Nora endeavoured to explain, but her explanation was not very lucid, and Miss Gibb was not extremely impressed. "Is that the only kind of work you want?" she asked; "a secretary?" "Indeed it isn't; I should be glad to do anything." "Some people, when they say they'd be glad to do anything, mean nothing, which is about all they're good for; I know. How would you like to go out charing?" "Charing? Well, I may be glad to have an opportunity of doing that." "Yes, no doubt; I fancy I see you at it! you charing! My word! Strikes me you're the kind who'll find it difficult to get work of any sort." "You're not very reassuring." "Facts is facts." "That's true enough; and it's no use blinking them. I fear you're right; I shall find it hard; anyhow while I'm looking for work it's clear that I can't continue to be your lodger. That's what I wanted to explain." "And pray why not?" "Isn't it pretty obvious? With five and eightpence halfpenny, and no prospect of more, how am I to pay you next week's rent?" "I did think you'd have talked better sense than that." "Angel!"