"I want to know what is the end of it all. We are not going back to school at the end of January. We have done with school." "Yes, darling," said Mrs Fortescue. She rose as she spoke. She went swiftly up to the girl and put her arm round her neck. "You have done with school in one sense, but all your beautiful future lies before you. You forget that Mr Timmins is coming to-morrow." "I had forgotten," said Florence. "Had you, Brenda?" "No," said Brenda, "how could I forget? I had a letter from him at Chester House this morning." "What time did he say he would come, dear?" asked Mrs Fortescue. "He said he would be here in the morning and he wanted us both to be in." "He wants to talk to you about your future, darlings," said Mrs Fortescue; "very natural, very right. You had no idea, had you, Brenda, of going to Newnham or Girton I do trust and hope you had no thoughts in that direction. Men don't like women who have led collegiate lives: I know that for a fact; my own dear Frank often said so. He said he could not bear really learned women." "I should have thought," said Brenda, "that men preferred women who could think. But I am afraid," she added, "that I don't very much care what men think on the subject. All the same, I am not going to either Newnham or Girton, so you can make your mind easy on that score, Mrs Fortescue." "That is right, darling, that is right. I haven't an idea what Mr Timmins particularly wants to say to you, but I trust whatever he does say will be confided to me." "Why, of course," said Florence. "And in your future, darlings, I hope that I, your old friend, will bear a part." The girls were silent, looking at her intently. She had expected an eager rush of words from those young lips, and their silence made her uneasy. "I have done all I can for you, haven't I, my sweet ones?" "Oh yes! You have been very kind, Mrs Fortescue," said Brenda. "But that is not all," said Mrs Fortescue, her voice dropping. "I--and you must know it--I love you both." Florence's fine dark eyes were opened to their fullest extent. Brenda looked very gently at the little woman with the dyed hair. Neither said a word. Mrs Fortescue sprang to her feet. "We will go into the drawing-room now," she said. "You will tell me when you are sleepy and want to go to bed; would you like a game of cut-throat bridge first?" The girls said they would like a game of bridge, and cards were produced. They played for about an hour, Mrs Fortescue invariably holding the best hand and the girls laughing good-humouredly at her luck. They played for love, not money. Mrs Fortescue thought the game uninteresting. It was between ten and eleven when the sisters went up to their room. They said good-night to Mrs Fortescue on the landing. They reached the comfortable bedroom where they had slept during the holidays for so many long years, and looked around them. Florence suddenly said--