Beginning a description of Mr. Marrapit's household, he floundered thence to a description of the required lady's duties; abandoning that unfinished, splashed to a description of the manner of person for whom he sought. It was his object to paint a character and appearance as near to his Mary's as he could master; to induce Miss Ram to suggest her as likely candidate for the post. He could not introduce his Mary to his uncle unless she came under the auspices of some recognised institution. So he floundered on. Miss Ram did not move. His struggles grew less; he caught at haphazard words; flung them desperately; at last relapsed; sat sweating. Miss Ram poked him with a questioning bow. He did not stir. With a further bow she accepted his defeat; handed him a pink paper. “Now, kindly fill up this form. State precisely what you require. Write clearly, please.” George obeyed. Miss Ram studied the answers to her printed interrogations; opened her ledger. “I have several suitable ladies.” She started to read a list. “Miss Minna Gregor; aged 25; daughter of the late Humphrey Gregor, stockbroker; three years' character from Mrs. Mountsaffron of Charles Street, to whom she was lady-help and from whom an excellent reference may be obtained.” “Too old,” said George. Miss Ram frowned; returned to the ledger. “Miss Ellen Hay; aged 20; daughter of Lieutenant Hay, late R.N. For two years with Mrs. Hoyle-Hoyle of Knightsbridge.” George squeaked, “Too young.” He had not anticipated this ordeal. Miss Ram read on. At the fifteenth name George was in desperate agitation. His list of objections was exhausted. Each protest had narrowed his field. “This is the last upon my books,” Miss Ram severely told him. “She fills all your requirements. None of your objections applies. You will certainly engage her.” “I feel sure I shall,” George brightly said. If this was the last name it must be Mary. “I am glad to hear that,” Miss Ram announced. “You are hard to please. This is a most admirable young woman.” George leaned forward with an expectant smile. Miss Ram read: “Miss Rosa Brump--” George's smile died. An “Eh?” was startled out of him. “Brump,” said Miss Ram testily. “Brump. B-r-u-m-p, _Brump_.” George said “Oh!”; ran a finger around the inside of his collar. Miss Ram read on, emphasising the Brumps with the suggestion of a ball bouncing from rock to rock: “Miss Rosa _Brump_; aged 21; daughter of the late Selwyn Agburn _Brump_, barrister-at-law. Companion to Miss Victoria Shuttle of Shuttle Hall, Shuttle, Lines, until that lady's death. The late Miss Shuttle dying suddenly, Miss _Brump_ has no reference from her. What that reference would have been, however, is clearly evidenced by the fact that in her will Miss Shuttle bequeathed 'to my faithful companion Rosa _Brump_,' her terra-cotta bust of the late Loomis Shuttle, Esq., J.P., inventor of the Shuttle liquid manure.” Miss Ram wagged a finger at George. “That speaks for itself,” she said.