“You see, my love,” proceeded Mrs. Harper, in a smooth, insinuating tone, “it is not _every one_ who would take you back under the circumstances;” and she paused, and peered at the girl over her spectacles with a significant air. (The circumstances of five hundred pounds, thought her listener bitterly.) “Will you give me your word of honour that you have not been doing anything--unbecoming--anything that--that--would reflect on your reputation? My dear, you need not look so red and indignant. I’m only an old woman. I mean no offence.” “I have done nothing to be ashamed of, or which I shall ever blush for or regret,” rejoined Madeline, impressively; “and to that I can give my word of honour. But, Mrs. Harper, you ask strange questions--and I am no longer at school.” “Well, well, my dear--well, well; we _did_ hear that you were in the mantle department at Marshall and Snelgrove’s. I believe there are ladies in these establishments;” and then she added craftily, “You have such a nice, tall, slight figure--for trying on things. You were always so graceful, and had such taking manners!” “I was not there, Mrs. Harper,” returned Madeline; “and I cannot tell you where I was, beyond that I lived with a friend, and that I was very poor.” “A friend, at Solferino Place?” quickly. “Yes”--with visible reluctance--“at Solferino Place. And now what do you want with me, Mrs. Harper?” she asked, with unexpected boldness. “Well, I wish”--clearing her throat--“and so does Letitia, to let bygones be bygones; to allow your father to find you here, as if you had _never_ been away; to hush up your escapade--for though, of course, I believe you--it might sound a little curious to him. No one knows why you left, excepting Selina--Mrs. Murphy. It happened in the holidays. These girls are a new set, and have never heard of you; and, even if they had, they would not meet Mr. West, as he arrives during the Easter term. Do you agree to this?” “Yes,” replied Madeline, with sudden pallor, but a steady voice, “I agree; it will be best.” “That is arranged, then,” said the old diplomatist, briskly. “And, now, what about the money?--what about that? Shall we keep the five hundred pounds, and give you the balance?” In former days Madeline would have assented to this proposition at once; but now her heart beat tumultuously as she thought of Laurence and the baby. She must secure all she could for their sakes, and, feeling desperately nervous, she replied-- “No, I can’t quite see that, Mrs. Harper. To one year’s payment and interest you are, of course, entitled; but the second year I worked for my living--worked very hard indeed. You can scarcely expect to take two hundred pounds, as well as my services--gratis.”