Doris could not do otherwise than gratefully accept this kind offer. Indeed, there was nothing for her between it and starvation, unless she would be a helpless burden upon poor Mrs. Austin. Alice explained to Doris fully about the work, arranged where they should meet daily, and went thoroughly into every detail connected with the new employment. Moreover, she thoughtfully advanced ten shillings, that Doris might be able to buy herself a new hat, veil, and a pair of gloves, also a note-book and pencil. When that matter was settled, the girls sat down under one of the chestnut trees, enjoying to the full the sights and sounds of spring about them, the fresh green of the grass, the blue sky, and the sunshine resting over all and everything--not to mention the singing and twittering of the birds, the barking of dogs, the rolling of the carriages, and the bright appearance of the ladies walking or driving by. Presently Alice ventured to ask after Bernard Cameron. Upon which Doris, with her heart lightened from carking care and warmed by her friend’s affection, for the first time took her entirely into her confidence, by relating how matters stood between her and the young man, together with a full statement of the manner in which his money had been lost. She could trust Alice completely, and, moreover, felt that, as the latter was about to be responsible for her honesty in dealing with other people’s money, no detail of the cloud of disgrace resting over the Andersons should be concealed. "But it does not make the slightest difference about you, darling," cried Alice, looking tenderly into Doris’s downcast face. "It is very sweet of you to tell me all about it. And I think, dear, that you take rather too serious a view of your father’s fault----" "Say, _sin_," corrected Doris, gravely. "Let us call things by their right names----" "Well, _sin_," conceded Alice. "But in my opinion it was not so bad as you think. When he speculated with Bernard Cameron’s money, of course he thought it quite safe to do so, and anticipated a big profit, which no doubt he intended to hand over to Bernard. If things had ’panned out,’ as the Americans say, successfully, no one would have blamed him. Indeed, people would have thought he acted very cleverly and with rare discrimination. It seems to me that it was the mere accident of non-success, instead of success, which made his conduct reprehensible and not praiseworthy." Doris took no little comfort from this view of the matter, and wished she had confided in Alice before. "How very sensible you are, Alice, dear!" she cried. "Oh, I am fortunate in having such a friend!" "And I am fortunate in having you for a friend, darling!" returned the other, adding, in her most matter-of-fact tone, "When an outsider brings eyes that haven’t been saddened by grief to look at a trouble, of course the vision is clearer. And I must say, also, that I like Bernard for not accepting that money from you."