Alice Raynor was sitting in a small parlour at Mrs. Preen's, dedicated to herself and the children's studies, busily employed in correcting exercises. The afternoon sun shone upon the room, and she had drawn the table into the shade. Her head and hands were given to their work, but her deeper thoughts were far away: for there existed not a minute in the day that the anxiety caused by her uncertain prospects was not more or less present to her mind. She knew nothing of the new hopes relative to Eagles' Nest. In truth, those hopes, both to Mrs. Raynor and Edina, seemed almost too wonderful to be real; and as yet they refrained from giving them to Alice. The corrections did not take very long, and then Alice laid down the pen and sat thinking. She felt hot and weary, and wished it was nearer tea-time. The old days at Eagles' Nest came into her thoughts. They very often did so: and the contrast they presented to these later ones always made her sad. A slight tap at the door, and a gentleman entered: William Stane. Alice blushed through her hot cheeks when she saw who it was, and brushed the tears from her eyes. But not before he had seen them. "I beg your pardon, Miss Raynor. Mrs. Preen is out, I hear." "Yes, she is out with the two little girls." "I am sorry. I have brought up some admission tickets for the Botanical flower-show: they were only given me this morning. Do you think Mrs. Preen will be back soon?" "Not in time to use the tickets. They have gone to an afternoon-tea at Richmond." "What a pity! It is the rose show. I--suppose you could not go with me?" added Mr. Stane in some hesitation. "Oh dear, no," replied Alice, glancing at him in astonishment. "Thank you very much." "Mrs. Preen would not like it, you think?" "I am sure she would not. You forget that I am only the governess." Down sat Mr. Stane on the other side the table, and began fingering absently one of the exercise-books, looking occasionally at Alice while he did so. "What were you crying about?" he suddenly asked. Alice was taken aback. "I--I don't think I was quite crying." "You were very near it. What was the matter?" "I am very sorry to have to leave," she truthfully answered. "Mrs. Preen is about to stay for a time in Devonshire, as perhaps you know, and the little girls are to go to school. So I am no longer wanted here." "I should consider that a subject for laughter instead of tears. You will be spared work." "Ah, you don't know," cried Alice, her tone one of pain. "If I do not work here, I must elsewhere. And the next place I get may be harder than this." "And you were crying at the anticipation?" "No. I was crying at the thought of perhaps not being able speedily to find another situation. I--suppose," she timidly added, "you do not happen to know of any situation vacant, Mr. Stane?" "Why, yes, I believe I do. And I think you will be just the right person to fill it." Her blue eyes brightened, her whole face lighted up with eagerness.