“I am the last person in the world who has a chance of helping you,” Emily answered. “Excepting good Doctor Allday--” On the point of adding the name of Alban Morris, she checked herself without knowing why, and substituted the name of her school-friend. “And not forgetting Cecilia,” she resumed, “I know nobody.” “Cecilia’s a fool,” Francine remarked gravely; “but now I think of it, she may be worth cultivating. Her father is a member of Parliament--and didn’t I hear that he has a fine place in the country? You see, Emily, I may expect to be married (with my money), if I can only get into good society. (Don’t suppose I am dependent on my father; my marriage portion is provided for in my uncle’s will.) Cecilia may really be of some use to me. Why shouldn’t I make a friend of her, and get introduced to her father--in the autumn, you know, when the house is full of company? Have you any idea when she is coming back?” “No.” “Do you think of writing to her?” “Of course!” “Give her my kind love; and say I hope she enjoys Switzerland.” “Francine, you are positively shameless! After calling my dearest friend a fool and a glutton, you send her your love for your own selfish ends; and you expect me to help you in deceiving her! I won’t do it.” “Keep your temper, my child. We are all selfish, you little goose. The only difference is--some of us own it, and some of us don’t. I shall find my own way to Cecilia’s good graces quite easily: the way is through her mouth. You mentioned a certain Doctor Allday. Does he give parties? And do the right sort of men go to them? Hush! I think I hear the bell again. Go to the door, and see who it is.” Emily waited, without taking any notice of this suggestion. The servant announced that “the person had called again, to know if there was any answer.” “Show her in here,” Emily said. The servant withdrew, and came back again. “The person doesn’t wish to intrude, miss; it will be quite sufficient if you will send a message by me.” Emily crossed the room to the door. “Come in, Mrs. Ellmother,” she said. “You have been too long away already. Pray come in.” CHAPTER XXIX. “BONY.” Mrs. Ellmother reluctantly entered the room. Since Emily had seen her last, her personal appearance doubly justified the nickname by which her late mistress had distinguished her. The old servant was worn and wasted; her gown hung loose on her angular body; the big bones of her face stood out, more prominently than ever. She took Emily’s offered hand doubtingly. “I hope I see you well, miss,” she said--with hardly a vestige left of her former firmness of voice and manner. “I am afraid you have been suffering from illness,” Emily answered gently. “It’s the life I’m leading that wears me down; I want work and change.” Making that reply, she looked round, and discovered Francine observing her with undisguised curiosity. “You have got company with you,” she said to Emily. “I had better go away, and come back another time.”