"Miss Warburton will have given you some idea of the duties required"--and now her manner had decidedly softened. "We are very busy people, and we lead two lives, the working life and the social life; and as we are fairly strong, we manage to enjoy both. Unfortunately, my sister has had a little trouble with her eyes lately--the doctors say it is on the nerves. Sometimes when she reads or writes she has pain in them, and has to close her book, or shut up her desk. If she were to persevere the pain would become excruciating; it is certainly on the nerves, for sometimes she is not troubled at all." "I understand," returned Waveney, in a low voice. "Our doctor is an old friend and a very sensible man," continued Miss Harford, "and he proposed that my sister should find some young lady with a good voice and pleasant manner who would read to her, especially in the evenings, when nothing is going on, and to whom she could dictate letters." "Oh, I am sure I could do that," returned Waveney, eagerly; and then Mrs. Mainwaring chimed in again. "My dear, I am an old woman, so you may believe me. My nieces are the best women I know, and they make every one happy at the Red House." "Now, Aunt Sara," returned Miss Harford, good humouredly, "how are Miss Ward and I to understand each other if you will keep interrupting us? You see, Miss Ward, the duties are very light, and you will have plenty of time to yourself. We want some one young and cheerful who will make herself at home and be ready for any little service. Are you musical?" "I can sing a little but my voice has not been well trained." "That is a pity. Now should you mind reading us a page or two?" And she handed her a novel that was lying open on the table. Waveney flushed, but she took the book at once. For the first few minutes her voice trembled: then she thought of the new gown she wanted to buy for Mollie at Christmas, and then it grew steady. "Miss Ward reads very nicely, does she not, Aunt Sara?" was Miss Harford's approving comment. "I think Althea will be pleased." Then turning to Waveney with a pleasant smile that lit up her homely features as sunshine lights up a granite rock, "I really see no reason why we should not come to terms. I do not know what we ought to offer you, Miss Ward, but my sister thought fifty pounds a year." Waveney gave a little start of surprise. The terms seemed magnificent. "Oh," she said, impulsively, "I shall be able to help father. What happiness that will be!" And then her face fell a little. "Will you tell me, please, is it very far to Erpingham?" "Do you mean from here?" "No, not exactly. I am thinking of my own home. We live in Cleveland Terrace, Chelsea." Then Miss Harford seemed somewhat taken aback. "Is your father's name Everard Ward?" she asked, abruptly.