Mrs. Trelake received Orange with warmth and pity. She saw that the girl was in trouble. The heart of Orange was full of her reception at Miss Bowdler’s, and she recounted it to the old lady. Mrs. Trelake was shocked: she held up her hands, she blessed her stars, she vowed she could never look on Miss Bowdler again with regard; she undertook to cut her in the streets. (Mrs. Trelake dined with Miss Bowdler the same evening, and, when Miss Sophy told her version of the story, Mrs. Trelake was indignant over the dinner table at the audacity of Orange in presuming to thrust herself upon the Bowdlerian privacy.) ’To-morrow is the sale at Dolbeare,’ said Orange. ’The sale, my dear! How dreadful!’ Mrs. Trelake looked round the room at her pretty china and her case of stuffed hummingbirds. ’I could not bear to part with my things. Every article sold, I suppose. Will those pretty china jars go, with the dragons on them? I wonder whether I could get them cheap?’ ’Even to the beds and chairs. The house still belongs to us. That is, we have the lease, but we shall have to let it, so as to pay the rent.’ ’Not able to let the house nor pay the rent! Oh, my dear, how dreadful!’ ’I said that we should have to let it.’ ’I understood perfectly, my sweet child.’ ’We cannot go into the house stripped of everything. We cannot stay longer at Mr. Flamank’s. It was very good of him to take us in, but we are unable to trespass further on his kindness.’ ’Certainly, my poor child, it would not do.’ ’Then—to-morrow, whither are we to go?’ ’Really, my dear, I don’t know. I have a bad head at guessing conundrums. Is it a conundrum, though?’ asked Mrs. Trelake, doubtfully. She had not been listening. She was calculating her chance of securing the dragon vases at the sale. ’You knew and loved my mother. I am sure you love her now.’ ’Ardently, tenderly,’ said Mrs. Trelake, effusively. ’Will you take it ill if I ask a favour of you?’ ’Not at all.’ ’Would you receive us for a week? I do not ask for more. In a week we shall have had time to settle something as to our future.’ ’Oh, Orange! don’t say a week; say a month. My house is at your disposal. I really have a fair cook; and now tell me, what does your mother like? For breakfast, now? Is it grilled kidneys? You must put me up to all her little fancies, and I will instruct my cook to meet them. She is a good soul and does what I desire. When will you come? To-morrow? Oh, try to come this evening. Well—if not, at what o’clock? Tell me the time and I will have a dainty meal ready. Orange! I have a pheasant in the larder. I hope you like pheasant.’ ’We shall be with you at noon. How good and kind you are, Mrs. Trelake!’ ’Not at all. I am delighted.’