Miss Ram entered the details in a severe-looking book with a long thin pen--could hold out but faint hopes. The applicants whom she was accustomed to suit were “in nine and ninety cases out of one hundred cases” accomplished in the domestic or scholastic arts. However. Yes, Miss Humfray should call every morning. Better still, stay in the waiting-room. Be On the Spot--that was the first requisite for success, as Miss Humfray would find whether in a situation or awaiting a situation; be On the Spot. IX. On the Spot. A nightmare week in the dingy waiting-room ... thoughts probing the mind, stabbing the heart.... Nine till one, a cup of tea and a roll at an A.B.C. shop, an aimless walk in the park; two till six, good-night to the stout young woman named Miss Porter in “Enquiries,” home to the rattling mews and to Missus. On the Spot. Occasional interviews. “Miss Humfray, a lady will see you.” ... “Oh, too young--far too young.” ... “Thank you, that will do, Miss Humfray.” ... “Oh, not my style at all.” ... “Thank you, that will do, Miss Humfray.” On the Spot. Fortunately On the Spot one day--a Mrs. Eyton-Eyton, as nursery governess, Streatham. For a week very much On the Spot with Mrs. Eyton-Eyton. Nursery governess was a comprehensive word in the Eyton-Eyton vocabulary; covered every duty that in a nursery must be performed. One must do the nursery fire, sweep the nursery floor, bring up and carry down the nursery meals--servants, you see, object to waiting upon one whom, as Mrs. Eyton-Eyton with a careless laugh pointed out, they regard as one of themselves. Quickly the lesson was appreciated that while a servant must never be “put upon,” the same consideration need not be extended to a lady. Servants are rare in the market, young ladies cheap. X. The lesson of dependence, subserviency, Mary found harder in the learning; did not study it; therein reaped disaster. She arrived on a Tuesday. Upon that day of the following week Mrs. Eyton-Eyton paid to the nursery one of her rare visits, beautifully gowned, the hired victoria waiting to take her a round of calls. Lunch, delayed not to disturb the midday sleep of Masters Thomas and Richard Eyton-Eyton, was not cleared--Master Thomas still struggling with a plate of sago pudding. Betwixt her children Mrs. Eyton-Eyton--beautifully gowned, hired victoria in waiting--took her seat; Mary hovered behind--and catastrophe swooped. Master Thomas grabbed for a glass of milk; Mary strove to restrain him. There was an awkward struggle, her elbow--or his--caught the plate of pudding, tipped the sticky mass into the silken lap of Mrs. Eyton-Eyton, beautifully gowned, hired victoria in waiting. Infuriated, Mrs. Eyton-Eyton turned upon Mary. “Oh, you little fool!” The rebuke that should have been taken with downcast eyes, murmured apologies, was otherwise received. “Mrs. Eyton! How dare you call me a fool!”