The days passed pleasantly enough: Lady Ellis made herself agreeable, Mr. Lake was always so; and Clara nearly forgot her dream. On the Friday morning, a hot but cloudy day, Mr. Lake went out to fish. Lady Ellis and Fanny Chester strolled after him; and Mrs. Chester took the opportunity to--as she phrased it to herself--"tackle" Clara. That estimable and managing matron beguiled the young lady into the quiet and secluded nursery--a room above, that the children were never in--and there burst into a flood of tears over her work, the darning of a tablecloth, and laid her unhappy case bare in the broad light of day. "Only another week after this, my dear Clara! If you would but consent to stay! Think what my position will be should Lady Ellis quit me!" Clara hesitated. Just the same instinct arose within her against staying at Guild, that in the first instance, the evening before the dream, had arisen against going to it. But she was gentle, young, pliable; it seemed to her that refusal would be an unkind thing, and she could not form her lips to say it. "Would another week's stay make so very much difference to Lady Ellis, think you, Mrs. Chester?" "My dear good soul, it would make all the difference. She'll have become accustomed to the place then, and will not care to leave it." "Well--I will talk to Robert when he comes in." "Of course--if you wish. But you know, Clara, the decision lies entirely with you. He will do what you suggest. Now, my dear, do picture to yourself the difference in our positions, yours and mine, and be hard-hearted if you can. You with your happy home to return to, your three servants, and your six-hundred a year; and I with my poor pittance, my toiling life, and my heap of children!" Mrs. Chester showered tears upon the tablecloth in her lap, and Clara Lake felt that she was in for it. "If you and Robert will remain two weeks with me from the day you came, I shall be thankful.--My goodness me! who's that?" Mrs. Chester alluded to the clatter of some steps on the stairs, and the entrance of two ladies. Unfortunately for Clara Lake, they were Mary and Margaret Jupp. In high spirits, and with their usual volubility, they explained that they had a commission to execute at Guild for their mother, which gave them the opportunity of paying a flying call at Mrs. Chester's. Not so very flying; for the young ladies took off their bonnets and made themselves comfortable for an hour or two. Mrs. Chester--craftily foreseeing what valuable allies these would prove--melted into tears again, and renewed her request to Mrs. Lake. Abandoning pride and its reticence, she openly explained what a boon to her, poor distressed woman, it was that she was craving for, and avowed her poverty, and the terms on which Lady Ellis had come to her. The Miss Jupps had known all about it before, as Mrs. Chester knew, but she took advantage of the situation.