"Perhaps you wouldn’t let me if you knew what a cloud of disgrace hangs over me----" Doris broke down weeping. Was that cruel disgrace always to balk her every time she saw a prospect of happiness? "Disgrace! How you talk! It is I who am in disgrace." Alice flung her arms round her friend, and their tears mingled as they wept together. Mrs. Austin, coming in to see if they wanted any more tea, was quite affected by the sight and beat a hasty retreat into the kitchen. "It all comes of that horrid Mr. Sinclair forcing his way up to their garret," she said to herself, mentally determining to admit no more visitors to her young ladies without first acquainting them with their names. When they were calmer the two girls discussed the feasibility of their living together, as well as working together, with the result that they agreed to try the plan. Accordingly, when night came, they withdrew to Doris’s room, and lay down side by side in Doris’s bed, which happened to be a rather large one. Tired out, Doris slept so heavily that she did not hear her more wakeful companion’s sighs and sobs, nor did she see her slip out of bed in the early morning, dress hurriedly, and then go downstairs. When at last Doris awoke, Mrs. Austin was standing by her side, looking very grave and with a letter in her hand. "What is the matter?" asked Doris, sleepily. "Have I overslept? Oh!" She looked round for Alice. "Where is Miss Sinclair?" she asked. "Gone!" cried Mrs. Austin, tragically. "Gone? When? Where?" cried Doris, in alarm. "I don’t know, miss. She went before I came down. When I came down this morning I could see that some one had gone out at the front door, for only the French latch was down. And there was this letter for you on the sitting-room table, and Miss Sinclair’s boots had been taken from the kitchen, so I felt sure she must have gone." "You should have awoke me at once." "I came upstairs to do so, miss, but you were in such a beautiful sleep, I really hadn’t the heart to disturb you. But now it is getting late, and I have brought your hot water." Doris opened the note when Mrs. Austin had left the room. It was short and to the point. "DORIS DARLING,-- "You are _sweet_ to want me to live with you, and I should love it. But I have been thinking how kind Norman used to be when I had the toothache, and that he gave me such a nice copy of Tennyson on my last birthday,--and--the fact is, no one can make his coffee as he likes it in the morning but me--so I must go and look after him. Poor old Norman! He has no one else to look after his little comforts. And he will starve, _absolutely starve_ if left to himself. I shall always remember, darling, how you wanted me to live with you. "Yours lovingly, "ALICE. "P.S.--I make you a present of the business. Perhaps when we are starving, you will fling us a crust. Norman can’t object to my receiving charity, although he will not allow me to do the only work I am fit for.