“You speak as if you would be the obliged party, dear madam, instead of me,” Florence answered, after a few moments given to consideration. “You are very good, and if you and Mr. Lumley think me fitted for the situation you offer, I shall be pleased to accept it.” She did not say this without an effort. To enter a family as resident governess was renouncing the little remnant of independence she had been cherishing, but in her isolated position it would have been both rash and ungrateful to refuse. “Then it is settled?” asked Mrs. Wilson. “I am very glad. And when will you come to me, my dear Miss Heriton? I am very busy getting the house into order--Orwell Court, you know. And your advice and suggestions in the arrangement of the books and pictures will be such an assistance to me. Could you come to-morrow?” “Orwell Court!” Florence repeated. “I thought--that is, I understood----” And then, ashamed to repeat Mrs. Bick’s gossiping and apparently mistaken details, she hastily said: “Not to-morrow, but the following day, if you like. Mrs. Bick’s sister will be here by that time; I should not care to leave her alone.” “Very well. Then a carriage shall be sent for you and your trunks at whatever hour will suit you,” Mrs. Wilson answered. When this point was settled she turned to Mr. Lumley, who was waiting to hand her into their vehicle, and said, with a little air of triumph: “You can’t think how glad I am that we have arranged this business so nicely. I was quite worried about it, and have wished over and over again that Mr. Aylwinne had not delegated it to me.” Florence, who was fastening her brooch, looked up so inquiringly that the lady saw it and kindly asked: “What is it, my dear? Is there anything I have forgotten to say?” “Only that I do not know who Mr. Aylwinne is, or what he has to do with our arrangements.” Mrs. Wilson looked dreadfully perplexed, and arrested Mr. Lumley’s movements as he was leading her to the door. “Haven’t you told Miss Heriton? Haven’t you explained to her?” “My dear madam,” answered the clergyman, whose patience was fast waning, “I have had no opportunity for explanation. I left all that sort of thing to you.” “And she does not even know who Mr. Aylwinne is!” cried Mrs. Wilson, in dismay. “That I can soon tell her. Miss Heriton, Mr. Aylwinne is an old college friend of mine, who has lately purchased Orwell Court. And I have such certain knowledge of his goodness of heart that I think I can fairly promise you a happy home beneath his roof. Now, my dear Mrs. Wilson, we really must go, for I have visits to pay to some sick persons that cannot be put off.” With another apology for her tardiness, Mrs. Wilson made such a hurried exit that she forgot to bid Florence adieu; but remembered the omission as she was stepping into the carriage, and ran back to rectify it. “Good-by, my dear--good-by! How rude you must think me! I will send for you punctually to the hour, so mind and be ready.”