"Yes, indeed. She lives by herself in lodgings, and the house is not at all a respectable one." "But have you made no further inquiry?" "I consider that quite enough. I had already met more than one person, however, who seemed to think it very odd that I should have her to teach music in my family." "Did they give any reason for thinking her unfit?" "I did not choose to ask them. One was Miss Clarke--you know her. She smiled in her usual supercilious manner, but in her case I believe it was only because Miss Clare looks so dowdy. But nobody knows any thing about her except what I've just told you." "And who told you that?" "Mrs. Jeffreson." "But you once told me that she was a great gossip." "Else she wouldn't have heard it. But that doesn't make it untrue. In fact, she convinced me of its truth, for she knows the place she lives in, and assured me it was at great risk of infection to the children that I allowed her to enter the house; and so, of course, I felt compelled to let her know that I didn't require her services any longer." "There must be some mistake, surely!" I said. "Oh, no! not the least, I am sorry to say." "How did she take it?" "Very sweetly indeed. She didn't even ask me why, which was just as well, seeing I should have found it awkward to tell her. But I suppose she knew too many grounds herself to dare the question." I was dreadfully sorry, but I could not say much more then. I ventured only to express my conviction that there could not be any charge to bring against Miss Clare herself; for that one who looked and spoke as she did could have nothing to be ashamed of. Judy, however, insisted that what she had heard was reason enough for at least ending the engagement; indeed, that no one was fit for such a situation of whom such things could be said, whether they were true or not. When she left me, I gave baby to her nurse, and went straight to the study, peeping in to see if Percivale was alone. He caught sight of me, and called to me to come down. "It's only Roger," he said.