‘DEAR MR HARLAND,--I have been thinking over the conversation we had a few days since; and I have a proposition to make to you. You are young, unencumbered, and willing to work. Why not take the appointment we were speaking of--that of land-agent to my New Zealand property, and sail with us in the _Pandora_. Under these circumstances I shall be happy and willing to defray your expenses to Tabbakooloo, which I should not have offered under ordinary circumstances. Mrs But Vansittart likes you, and so does Grace--indeed, we all do, and should be pleased to have such a friend in our Bush life. Will you come in this evening and speak to me on the subject, as there is no time to lose. The _Pandora_ (Messrs Stern & Stales) sails on the 24th. Trusting my proposal will please you,--I am, yours sincerely, JOHN VANSITTART.’ ‘He means to accept this offer,’ said Iris, with clenched teeth, and trying hard not to cry. ‘He will go with these fine friends of his to New Zealand, and I am powerless to stop him. If I tell him I know it, he will soothe me with promises of remittances that will never come--and I--Oh, God! what _can_ I do, left here all by myself--without money or friends, or a home? Oh, if my poor father had only lived I would have gone back to him to-night and never, _never_ left him more.’ The picture drawn by her imagination of her utter impotence to avert her fate, here overcame poor Iris’s fortitude, and the tears welled up to her pathetic hazel eyes, and coursed slowly down her cheeks. But she did not know that she was sobbing, until a knock at the door made her cognisant she had been overheard. ‘It’s me, mistress,’ whispered a rough voice; ‘mayn’t I come in?’ ‘Oh yes, Maggie. What do you want?’ said Iris, drying her eyes. ‘_Want!_’ echoed the servant, as she made her appearance; ‘why, to know what’s been vexing you. That’s what I want.’ She was a dirty, slipshod girl, after the fashion of maids-of-all-work in smoky London, but she had youth and a certain coarse comeliness about her which might prove attractive to men who looked for nothing below the surface. ‘Has _he_ been bulleying you agen?’ she asked, with rough sympathy, as she stood in the doorway and regarded her mistress. ‘It’s a shame--that’s what I say--and I’d like to pay him out for it. That I would.’ ‘Hush! Maggie; you mustn’t say that!’ remonstrated Iris. ‘Of course, you know I am not happy, but you have been in your master’s pay for several years, and you mustn’t bite the hand that feeds you.’ ‘I’d never have stayed if it hadn’t been for _you_, mistress--nor if he had treated you properly neither. And perhaps, after all, I’ve been wrong to stay,’ said Maggie, with a sob in her throat. ‘_Wrong to stay!_’ repeated Iris in surprise. ‘Why, Maggie! what should I have done without you?’ ‘Ah! but you don’t know,’ cried the servant.