In passing down the side street by the office, some one brushed by, with the quick step of a London business man. Where had I seen the face before? Whose did it put me in mind of? Why--it came to me all in a minute--Roger Monk's! He who had lived at Dyke Manor for a short time as head-gardener under false auspices. But, as I have not said anything about him before, I will not enter into the history now. Before I could turn to look, Monk had disappeared; no doubt round the corner of the square. "Tod," I said, as soon as I came across him, "Sophie Chalk's a governess." "Well, what of that?" asked Tod. "Not much; but she might as well have been candid with us at Dyke Manor." "A governess is a lady." "Ought to be. But why did she make out to us that she had been a visitor at the Diffords', when she was only the teacher? We should have respected her just as much; perhaps made more of her." "What are you cavilling at? As if a lady was never a teacher before!" "Oh, Tod! it is not that. Don't you see?--if she had kept a chandler's shop, and been open about it, what should we have cared? It was the sailing under false colours; trying to pass herself off for what she is not." He gave no answer to this, except a whistle. "She is turned six-and-twenty, Tod. And she was not a school-girl at Miss Lakon's, but governess-pupil." "I suppose she was a schoolgirl once?" "I suppose she was." "Good. What else have you to say, wise Johnny?" "Nothing." Nothing; for where was the use? Sophie Chalk would have been only an angel in his eyes, though he heard that she had sold apples at a street-corner. Sophie, that very morning, had begged Lady Whitney to let her instruct the younger children, "as a friend," so long as they were in town; for the governess at Whitney was a daily one, and they had not brought her. Lady Whitney at first demurred, and then kissed Sophie for her goodness. The result was, that a bed was found for Miss Chalk, and she stayed with them altogether. But I can't say much for the teaching. It was not Sophie Chalk's fault, perhaps. Helen would be in the schoolroom, and Harry would be there; and I and Anna sometimes; and Tod and Bill always. Lady Whitney looked upon this London sojourn as a holiday, and did not mind whether the children learnt or played, provided they were kept passably quiet. I told Sophie of my visit to take the fichu, and she made a wry face over the lame girl. "That Mabel Smith! Poor morbid little object! What she would have grown into but for the fortunate chance of my sister's marrying into the house, I can't imagine, Johnny. I'll draw you her portrait in her night-cap, by-and-by."