"So you see I have made up my mind to go and inquire about it all this very afternoon if I can get away," says Honor folding up the paper. "Just think, if I can earn a pound a week, what a difference it will make to us! With that and what Molly makes by her teaching, we shall really be getting along quite famously. O, and that reminds me: have you told Doris about your probable new pupil, Molly?"
"No, but I was just going to. It seems that some new people have taken the house opposite the Vicarage, and Mr. Bolton has spoken to them about me. There are several children, I believe, and he seems to think that if I get the eldest girl on well (if I have her at all, that is) I may have the others when they are old enough. I fancy they are not very aristocratic sort of people: retired bakers or something, but they have lots of money, so I shall hope to get good terms. I shall have to bring all the dignity I can muster to the fore, I expect, for Mr. Bolton said in his quaint, quiet way that he was 'afraid they were not very good children from all he heard;' so if he confesses to that much you may depend upon it they are pretty bad. I am going to call on Mrs. Hallam, that is the bakeress's name" ("_Molly!_" exclaims her mother), "to-morrow," continues that young lady unmoved, "so then I shall know all about them. O, by the by, Hugh says he shall very likely run down to-morrow afternoon. What does aunt say, Doris?"
"Aunt?" says Doris, who has been absently looking out of the window. "Oh, she tells me she may want me to join her next week; but uncle's business is still a little uncertain, so it may not be till the week after. She has sent me five pounds to get myself a few new things. Kind of her, isn't it?"
"O, you lucky girl!" exclaims Molly. "How I wish someone would give me five pounds to rig myself out with!"
"You will be _earning_ as many soon, Molly, and that will be better," says Doris with a little flush. "If I were not such a poor useless creature I might be at home doing something too, instead of going away from everybody for ages!" and to everyone's surprise the girl suddenly bursts into tears.
The general consternation caused by this unexpected end to the conversation does not prevent plenty of loving sympathy being shown towards Doris. Poor little light-hearted Doris! who, though overwhelmed with joy at first at the prospect of travelling, now discovers down in the depths of her soft little heart a feeling which amounts to nothing less than dismay, now that she is brought face to face with the fact that before many more days have passed over her head she will have to say good-bye to the mother, sisters, and brothers from whom she has never before been separated beyond a week or two.