So Mrs. Fergusson stayed. Anstice always enjoyed her society. She had read much and been about to many different countries, for she travelled with her Russian pupils a great deal. Anstice told her about Louise. "I am so afraid she may fail in London. Can you give any advice about work for a girl of her capabilities?" "It is difficult. There is such a mad rush of these girls to London now. They are overcrowding each other. If I had a daughter, I would endeavour to keep her away from the offices in town. It is not a healthy life in many ways. I wonder if she would like a secretary's post in a large girls' school at Hampstead? I know the principal of it, and could put in a word for her. She looks a capable girl, but of course there will be about fifty or more trying to get the post, and she wants to have some knowledge of book-keeping." "That she could soon learn. May I write and suggest it to her?" "Certainly, and let me know if she would like such a job." Then Mrs. Fergusson smiled. "When one chick leaves the shelter of your wing, do you look about for another? Your own small people do not seem enough for your energy." "Oh, they are, more than enough, but Louise was brought to me. I could not help trying to help her. She seemed so solitary and forlorn away there in the wilds. Even I, in this cheerful house, feel a little bit down with this constant and ceaseless rain. Does it rain all the winter here?" "Oh no, we have lovely spells. Wait till the snow covers the hills, and we get a rosy sunset! And a cold, bright frosty day with low sunshine lying across the Fells, and the beautiful colouring of the lake, is too exquisite for words! I am never lonely in winter. I have my needlework and books, and sit looking out upon the lake till the moon rises, and then sit on watching that till bedtime." "Yes, I can fancy you doing it. I am inclined to waste a lot of time gazing out of these windows—so I expect I shall enjoy the winters here." "You will have your husband home soon?" "Not till Christmas." Anstice's tone was a little constrained. She changed the topic, and they plunged into a discussion over a book which had been lent to Anstice by Mrs. Fergusson. It was on "The Coming Race." Mrs. Fergusson was an optimist. "I think things will right themselves later on. It is the age for the emancipation of the young from parents' rule, from old age principles, from everything sweetly effeminate. You can no more stem the tide of on-rushing youth and high spirits than you could dam Niagara's Falls. And force is never as strong as persuasion—or rather suggestion. We mustn't try to baulk or prevent them from leading the lives they do; we can only stand-by in case of catastrophe, and give them a helping hand when they fall."