Pamela had prepared a scheme, which was just, fair-minded and practical, like herself. She was willing to invest a thousand pounds for the development of the department, and continue to direct the thriving showroom, if Madame Mirabel would admit her as partner with a right to half profits. A sketch of an agreement was drafted between them, drawn up by Pamela herself. Fortified by this document she sought her redoubtable aunt. “Now, Aunt Lydia,” said she, “here’s the opportunity of your life. You lend me a thousand pounds, and I’ll give you ten per cent. for three years and pay you back at the end of it with a bit over. And if I drop down dead between, you can come on Madame Mirabel.” Lydia was no fool. She was as fond of money as only such a nature can be, and had indeed gathered together quite a substantial hoard in her long years of lucrative employment. She made all the difficulties, of course, which the circumstances demanded, but Pamela, who saw the gleam of greed in her eye, knew that her cause was won from the outset. She good-humouredly consented to sign the stringent document which Lydia thought necessary for her safety; and to obtain Madame Mirabel’s signature to it also. The transaction was concluded without much more delay, and Miss Pamela Pounce passed from the position of underling to that of partner. The matter was, needless to say, kept private between Madame Mirabel and herself. It is never wholesome for the reputation of a business concern to have these conveniences of management discussed; and, for the mere sake of discipline where large numbers are employed and easy jealousies excited, no change affecting authority can be acknowledged. Miss Smithson and Miss Popple, therefore, while unable to blind themselves to the fact that their aged employer’s infatuation for that scheming Miss Pounce was more lamentably evident than ever, still buoyed themselves up with the hope that her true character would be revealed before the eyes of the too-trusting dame. Miss Sarah Vibart’s wedding order; bride and bridesmaids hats--Jane was chief bridesmaid, an advertisement which, as Pamela herself said, would have been worth paying for ten times over--brought a rush of new _clientèle_ to the Bond Street house. Mr. Walsingham’s wedding was the event of June--luckily timed before the unexpected death of the Marquis of Harborough--and it is scarcely too much to say that the first thought of every lady of fashion who received a ticket of invitation was: “Pounce shall make me a new hat!” Lydia, who kept a close tongue where her nest-egg was concerned, began to unbend considerably towards her niece. Nothing succeeds like success. You could scarce have dragged five shillings out of her, had the girl been lingering on at Tabbishaw’s, but, as matters stood, my Lady’s Abigail felt “warm in her inwards,” every time she thought of that thousand pounds which was so likely to bring a blessing upon her high sense of family feeling.