"I expect you’ll have your own maid when you’re married to Mr Jefferson, Miss," added Mary. Dora made no reply. She was thinking--and the poor overworked little servant, with her woman’s instinct, divined her thoughts. "Don’t you think, Miss," she said, presently, "that Dr Mortimer’s thinner than when he first came?" "Oh, I haven’t noticed it," said Dora, carelessly. "_I_ have," returned Mary. She brushed away vigorously without speaking for some little time, and then she said: "I wonder if he’s in love, Miss!" "Who?" demanded Dora, quite unnecessarily. "Why, Miss, Dr Mortimer!" "How should _I_ know!" cried Dora. "Please be quick, Mary--I’m so tired." "I sometimes think that he is," continued the sentimental little servant, "by the look in his eyes, Miss. I should think," added Mary thoughtfully "that he would be a very faithful lover, like the knights and barons you read of in books. Don’t you think so too, Miss?" "What idiotic things you say, Mary!" cried Dora, impatiently. "There, I think you’ve brushed my hair quite enough. Thank you very much." "Quite welcome, Miss," said the little servant; "Good-night, Miss!" "Good-night, Mary." The diamond ring, twinkling and flashing, attracted a good deal of attention at the post-office. The other clerks went into raptures about it, and told Dora that she was a very lucky girl. Everybody--it seemed to Dora--said she was a lucky girl. Dora did not altogether appreciate being informed so frequently of her stupendous luck. After all, this ring was only the symbol of a bargain. Was she not giving herself in exchange for it? She did not put the matter to herself quite in these words, but this was the drift of her reflections on the subject. Why should she be considered so very, very lucky? Miss Cook and she got away from the post-office early one afternoon. "We will have a nice tea somewhere," said Dora; "I will treat you, dear." "Shall we go to tea with Mr Somers?" suggested Miss Cook. "Mr Somers! But he will be out." "No, he won’t. I saw him last night at the house of some friends of mine, and he told me he would be in to-day. I knew we should get off early to-day, and so I asked him," added Miss Cook, a little shamefacedly. Dora sighed. She was fond of Miss Cook, and she was afraid that Mr Somers was never likely to take a fancy to her friend. "Very well, dear; we will go and see Mr Somers." They turned their steps, therefore, in the direction of the Adelphi, where, along a modest terrace, Koko did dwell. Presently Dora said: "What friends did you go to see last night, Rose?" "Oh, some old friends of ours--not at all grand. He is a bookseller." "I suppose he has all the new novels. I wonder if he ever reads them!" "He doesn’t have any new novels, Dora. He is a second-hand bookseller. He deals in all sorts of old books." "Oh!" said Dora. "Mr Somers is very fond of collecting old books, isn’t he?"