"Order breakfast to be served here this morning," said Miss Harley, "for two, please." The maid withdrew. Gwin opened the window and looked out. "I am very sorry for Kitty," she said, after a pause. Elma did not reply. After a time she said slowly: "Did you see Miss Sherrard last night?" "I did; but it was useless. She won't retract her mandate." A sigh of relief came from Elma's lips. The servant again appeared with breakfast. Gwin poured out tea for her friend. Elma drank a cup, her throat felt dry. She saw no way out of her difficulty. She could scarcely bring herself to eat. A few moments later she was on her way back from Harley Grove. She hesitated whether to go straight to the school and wait there until nine o'clock or to return to Constantine Road. After a little reflection she decided on the latter course. She reached home hot and weary between eight and nine o'clock. Carrie was seated at the breakfast table; a letter lay on Elma's plate. "Why, Elma, what have you been doing out and about at this unearthly hour?" said Carrie, as she cracked the shell of an egg by no means fresh. "Where is mother?" remarked Elma, as she seated herself at the table. "She has a bad headache. I have sent up her breakfast. Are you going to see her?" "No, I think not. I shall just have time to eat something--not that I am specially hungry--and then start for school." "There's a letter on your plate. Why don't you read it?" "I know; it's from Aunt Charlotte." "Well, well, and you are interested in Aunt Charlotte more than I am," said Carrie. "Do read your letter." Elma somewhat languidly tore open the envelope. The next moment she uttered an exclamation, and her face went first red and then pale. "Aunt Charlotte writes to say she is coming here to-day." "To-day! Good gracious!" said Carrie. "She doesn't want me to stay in, does she?" "Oh, no; but this is terribly awkward." "Why so, Elma? Why shouldn't you ask her to lend you the money?" "Ask Aunt Charlotte! I may as well put my hand into the fire." "Well, suppose I were to help you," said Carrie, after a time. "You, Carrie; how could you?" "But suppose I were to--I am not the sort of person who does anything for nothing. What would you give me if I got you out of this?" "But how could you get me out of it?" "Why, I suppose by giving Kitty the money." "Carrie, you talk nonsense. Unless, indeed, you were to persuade Sam Raynes----" "Oh, it's useless to worry poor Sam. He has speculated with that money, and if he doubles it we shall have it back. I think when that time comes the very least you ought to do, Elma is to give me half of the balance over and above what you borrowed. That would be three pounds ten, for me quite a nice little sum. It would keep me in ribbons, gloves, and boots for a bit. I get such a very small salary."