“No; mother won't listen to that She 's so indignant about the way they treated my poor father about that good-service pension,--one of a race that has been pouring out their blood like water for three centuries back,--that she says she 'd not let me accept a commission if it were offered to me, without it came coupled with a full apology for the wrong done my father; and as I am too old for the navy, and too ignorant for most other things, it will push all the great man's ingenuity very close to find out the corner to suit me.” “They talk a deal about Australia, Tony; and, indeed, I sometimes think I 'd like to go there myself. I read in the 'Times' t' other day that a dairy-maid got as much as forty-six pounds a-year and her board; only fancy, forty-six pounds a-year! Do you know,” added she, in a cautious whisper, “I have only eighteen pounds here, and was in rare luck too, they say, to get it.” “What if we were to set out together, Dolly?” said he, laughing; but a deep scarlet flush covered her face, and though she tried to laugh too, she had to turn her head away, for the tears were in her eyes. “But how could _you_ turn dairymaid, Dolly?” cried he, half reproachfully. “Just as well, or rather better, than _you_ turn shepherd or gold-digger. As to mere labor, it would be nothing; as to any loss of condition, I 'd not feel it, and therefore not suffer it.” “Oh, I have no snobbery myself about working with my hands,” added he, hastily. “Heaven help me if I had, for my head would n't keep _me_; but a girl's bringing up is so different from a boy's; she oughtn't to do anything menial out of her own home.” “We ought all of us just to do our best, Tony, and what leaves us less of a burden to others,--that's my reading of it; and when we do that, we 'll have a quiet conscience, and that's something that many a rich man could n't buy with all his money.” “I think it's the time for the children's dinner, Miss Stewart,” said the grim lady, entering. “I am sorry it should cut short an interview so interesting.” A half-angry reply rose to Tony's lips, when a look from Dora stopped him, and he stammered out, “May I call and see you again before I go back?” “When _do_ you go back, young gentleman?” asked the thin lady. “That's more than I can tell. This week if I can; next week if I must.” “If you 'll write me a line, then, and say what day it would be your convenience to come down here, I will reply, and state whether it will be Miss Stewart's and mine to receive you.” “Come, at all events,” said Dora, in a low voice, as they shook hands and parted. “Poor Dolly!” muttered he, as he went his way towards town. “What between the pale cheeks and the cropped hair and the odious cap, I 'd never have known her!” He suddenly heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and, turning, he saw her running towards him at full speed.