Finally, there came the question as to how Annie Brunel was to earn a living, and the _Times_ was again called into requisition. Many a weary hour did Mrs. Anerley and her charge spend in reading through the advertisements, and writing letters in reply to those which seemed most suitable. No answer came to any one of these applications. For some reason or other they had not thought it worth while to reply to the advertisement about music, French, and private theatricals; but at last the pertinacity with which the lines appeared in the newspaper drew discussion down upon them. "If I were to be asked how I became proficient in theatricals, I should have to say I was on the stage; and I don’t wish to do that." "Why, dear?" "Because the people might say they did not wish to have an actress in the house, and I want to avoid the insult." "My dear, you have the absurdest notions. If they had seen you on the stage, they will be all the more delighted to have you. It was because you were an actress, I firmly believe, that I came to see you; and in a few days I have made a daughter of you." "Nobody seems inclined to answer my letters," said the girl, ruefully. "You may wait, and wait, for months," said Mrs. Anerley. "Add this one to the number, and tell them who you are. But you must tell them that you only want a small salary, or they will never think of engaging you." So the letter was written in accordance with these suggestions, and posted with several others. By that night’s post—and the exceeding swiftness of the response might have provoked some suspicion in less unworldly minds—there came a letter. Annie Brunel was alone. She saw by the unknown handwriting that the letter was likely to be a reply to one of her applications; and for a minute or two she allowed the envelope to remain unopened, while she wondered what sort of destiny lay folded within it. These were the words she read— "Rose Villa, Haverstock Hill, October 29, 18—. "Mrs. John Hubbard presents compliments to Miss Brunel; is exceedingly obliged by the offer of her valuable assistance, and would Miss Brunel be good enough to call, at her convenience, any forenoon between ten and two? Mrs. Hubbard hopes that if Miss Brunel can be induced to accept the situation which lies at her disposal, nothing will be wanting to render her position in the house more that of a friend than an instructress. Mrs. Hubbard hopes her proposal, when properly explained to Miss Brunel, will meet with Miss Brunel’s favourable consideration." This to a governess! The girl scarcely knew how to regard the letter—so familiar, so respectful, so anxious. "Here is another person who does not object to my being an actress. And I am to be her friend." She came to the conclusion that a lady who could so write to a perfect stranger, must either be mad, or have an idea that, in asking Annie Brunel to her house, it was ’Juliet’ or ’Rosalind’ who might be expected to come.