your letters."

"Oh, Miss Sampson? Yes, she is an energetic little thing. But she has
vexed me to-day. I particularly wanted her this afternoon, and she has
asked for a holiday. Her little cousin is ill, and she wants to take him
into the country somewhere. She has just gone. You must have met her on
the stairs."

Miss Merivale started. "Yes, I met someone coming down. Was that Miss
Sampson? Then she is not coming back to-day? I wanted some programmes
typewritten. Could you give me her address?"

"Yes, I have it here somewhere. But she will be here on Monday. I will
speak to her, if you like I shall be glad to get her some work; for after
next week I shall not want her, though I have not told her so yet. Mother
is coming home rather sooner than we expected, and I am going back to
Desborough with her."

"Indeed? You will be sorry to give up your work, won't you, my dear?"
asked Miss Merivale mechanically, as she watched Clare turning over her
address-book.

"Mother has promised that I shall come back later on and stay with Aunt
Metcalfe. I shall like that better than this. One gets tired of a flat
after a time. But here is Miss Sampson's address. Will you write to her,
or shall I tell her what you want?"

"I will go there now," Miss Merivale said, her hand closing eagerly on the
slip of paper Clare gave her. "She has just come from Australia, Miss
Smythe said."