“I know it’s awkward,” she admitted; “but you might write to the gentlemen. I tell you they promised me they would answer any question.” Lucy reflected. She did not see how that would help her. If there was anything unsound in the matter, more written testimonials would thicken the plot rather than clear it. Yet how natural and inevitable the circumstances seemed! How wrong it would be to let this nice woman slip through her fingers merely for the sake of a mere convention! “Is there nobody within reach who can say a word for you?” she suggested. “Well, ma’am,” said Jessie Morison anxiously, “of course, there’s my cousins; but I didn’t like to mention them, because most ladies would think relations don’t count for much. They’re highly respectable. He’s got a shop, and they’ve lived in the same house for years, and everybody knows them.” “I think that will do,” Lucy conceded. After all, it seemed only a question of identity, and this inquiry would surely settle that. “Very well, ma’am, thank you kindly. There’s my cousin’s business card, ma’am, and the dwelling-house is along with the shop. When will you likely call, ma’am?” “Some time in the course of to-morrow,” Lucy answered. “Is there any particular time more suitable than another?” “Oh, no, ma’am, they’re always at home at work—him in his shop, and her in her house. I only wanted to hear that you’d come at once, ma’am, for I’m so eager to get settled.” “It shall be settled by to-morrow evening,” Lucy promised. “Good morning, Mrs. Morison.” “Good morning, ma’am, and thank you, and I think you’ll find everything all right.” Lucy was already joyfully gathering up her possessions. As for little Hugh, he sprang forward and danced a jig with delight at the prospect of departure. His mother turned to take courteous leave of the knitting lady, who looked up with an inscrutable smile. “I congratulate you,” she remarked. “I suppose you think you have got off easily?” “I think I am suited,” Lucy said with an air of triumph to the registry clerk, when she found her. “When ought I to pay my fee?” “You can pay it now, ma’am. Five shillings. Oh, do you think it expensive, ma’am? Remember that for the same fee, if you choose, you can come here every day and all day long till you do get suited! We arrange so in case ladies are not fortunate at first. We make only the same charge for hiring cooks or housemaids, but then they are more easily got than generals, and also they pay a percentage on their wages when they are hired. We charge the ‘generals’ nothing, poor things.” “Fancy taking out your money’s worth by sitting there ‘till one is suited,’” cried Lucy, when they were once more outside in the fresh air. “And did you see, Florence, the cousin’s address is at Willesden, and I shall have to lose another whole November day’s light in going there.”