"Only one answer! That was unfortunate. You can not have worded your advertisement attractively enough, dear." "Oh, yes, I did! Bob composed it in strict orthodox fashion. Unfortunately there were lots of other governesses advertising, and no one seeming to want them; but there was a great run on cooks and barmaids and housemaids. I don't know what is to become of me, for I can not and I will not live on poor auntie--that I'm determined! I'd--I'd rather scrub kitchen floors, or pick potatoes in the field like a laborer's daughter!" cries the girl passionately, her cheeks flushing. "Addie," says Miss Rossitor slowly, hesitatingly, "I think I know of a situation that might suit you, if you really wish--" "You do? Oh, you dear, you dear! Tell me quickly where it is." "It's so wretched I'm almost ashamed to mention it; but you seem so anxious, dear," says Miss Rossitor deprecatingly. "A friend of mine is there at present; but she is leaving this week to better herself, as indeed she might easily do. No, no, Addie dear, I won't tell you about it--it's too miserable, too mean--" "Oh, Miss Rossitor, dear friend, don't refuse to help me! I am not what I was; all my stupid pride is gone; work is all I crave. Oh, can't you feel for me, can't you understand me?" she pleads vehemently. Miss Rossitor gently kisses the pleading upturned face, and then answers gravely-- "That will do, child; I will hesitate no longer. The family I allude to are retired Birmingham tradespeople, not particularly refined, I fear, in their habits or surroundings. They have four children ranging in age from five to twelve--one boy and three girls; these you would have to educate, and you would have to be with them all day, take them for walks, help the nurse to dress them in the mornings, even, I believe, occasionally to mend their clothes. Your salary for all this would be twenty-two pounds a year--think of that--twenty-two pounds a year!" "Will you give me their address?" is all Addie says. "I will write for you myself, dear child, it you wish it. You can at least make a trial; but I warn you that the life of a nursery-governess in an underbred household cramped probably in a suburban villa is very different from what you--" "I know, I know; but I am prepared to bear anything. What does anything matter now that we are all separated and have lost our beloved home for ever? Oh, Miss Rossitor"--springing to her feet and pacing up and down the room with clinched hands--"that is the thought that stings, that paralyzes hope, that deadens energy--to think that it is gone from us for ever! Sometimes I feel that, if Heaven had made me a man, it would not have been so." "What would you have done, Addie?"