Theo was trembling, and biting her lips to keep back the tears. To her it was not a building at all; it was a sign--a symbol! The wide steps were not empty--she saw on them the blaze of great national pageants; the wide nave was filled with happy faces, with black-robed women who wept and wrung their hands; in her ears was the tramp of armed men. She shivered and drew her cloak closely round her. When the next omnibus for Victoria came along she took a surreptitious opportunity of flicking the drops from her eyelashes. Some day she would write about this too! Oh, what wealth of subjects, what capital, what inspiration in this wonderful, throbbing world! And then Stephen tapped her on the shoulder and cried a well-known name: "Fleet Street, Theo! Allow me to introduce you. Your special beat, my dear." "My publishers! Where are my publishers!" cried Theo loudly, as though she expected to see the heads of the great firms ranged in a body to greet her. The other occupants of the benches overheard her words, and gazed upon her with becoming awe. This was evidently a distinguished author! Note her well--consider her features, so that she may be recognised by the portraits in the shop windows! Philippa smiled whimsically at the thought that already Theo had made an impression. What further triumphs or humiliations had this Fleet Street in store for her? Well, it was a wonderful drive! If Saint Paul's had been impressive, what about that glorious pile of buildings at Westminster, and the first glimpse of the river by night! It was like a dream--a wonderful dream-- in which the imagined glories of the world passed in review before the eyes. That night the girls were in the clouds, lifted far above mercenary anxieties; but they came back to earth again next morning when their boxes had been unpacked and stored away, and they were confronted with the all-important question of the next move. When lunch was over silence fell suddenly upon the little room, and four pairs of eyes met in solemn conclave. "I--er--I shall go round to the Slade School and make inquiries," said Madge quickly. "We are settled down now, and must lose no more time. I shall ask what is the very first day I can join." "I shall write to Mr Hammond, the editor of the _Casket_. His firm publish books as well as the magazine, and he took most of father's things. I shall ask him if he can see me for ten minutes, as I am thinking of devoting myself to literature as a profession, and should be grateful for his advice."