"And now, Mrs Home, we will have some lunch together up here, and then afterwards we can talk and quite finish all our arrangements," said the rich Charlotte, looking with her frank and pleasant eyes at the poor one. She rang a bell as she spoke, and before Mrs. Home had time to reply, a tempting little meal was ordered to be served without delay. "I have been with my publishers this morning," said Miss Harman. "They are good enough to say they believe my tale promises well, but they want it completed by the first of March, to come out with the best spring books. Don't you think we may get it done? It is the middle of January now." "I daresay it may be done," answered Mrs. Home, rising, and speaking in a tremulous voice. "I have no doubt you will work hard and have it ready--but--but--I regret it much, I have come to-day to say I cannot take the situation you have so kindly offered me." "But why?" said Miss Harman, "why?" Some color came into her cheeks as she added, "I don't understand you. I thought you had promised. I thought it was all arranged yesterday." Her tone was a little haughty, but how well she used it; how keenly Mrs. Home felt the loss of what she was resigning. "I did promise you," she said; "I feel you have a right to blame me. It is a considerable loss to me resigning your situation, but my husband has asked me to do so. I must obey my husband, must I not?" "Oh! yes, of course. But why should he object. He is a clergyman, is he not? Is he too proud--I would tell no one. All in this house should consider you simply as a friend. Our writing would be just a secret between you and me. Your husband will give in when you tell him that." "He is not in the least proud, Miss Harman--not proud I mean in that false way." "Then I am not giving you money enough--of course thirty shillings seems too little; I will gladly raise it to two pounds a week, and if this book succeeds, you shall have more for helping me with the next." Mrs. Home felt her heart beating. How much she needed, how keenly she longed for that easily earned money. "I must not think of it," she said, however, shaking her head. "I confess I want money, but I must earn it elsewhere. I cannot come here. My husband will only allow me to do so on a certain condition. I cannot even tell you the condition--certainly I cannot fulfil it, therefore I cannot come." "Oh! but that is exciting. _Do_ tell it to me." "If I did you would be the first to say I must never come to this house again." "I am quite sure you wrong me there. I may as well own that I have taken a fancy to you. I am a spoiled child, and I always have my own way. My present way is to have you here in this snug room for two or three hours daily--you and I working in secret over something grand. I always get my way so your conditions must melt into air. Now, what are they?"