‘My husband and I were talking about you last night,’ began Mrs. Rymer, as soon as the door had closed, in a tone of the friendliest confidence.  ’I had an idea; it seems to me so good.  I wonder whether it will to you?  You told me, did you not, that you live in lodgings, and quite alone?’

‘Yes,’ replied Miss Shepperson, struggling to command her nerves and betraying uneasy wonder.

‘Is it by choice?’ asked the soft-voiced lady, with sympathetic bending of the head.  ’Have you no relations in London?  I can’t help thinking you must feel very lonely.’

It was not difficult to lead Miss Shepperson to talk of her circumstances—­a natural introduction to the announcement which she was still resolved to make with all firmness.  She narrated in outline the history of her family, made known exactly how she stood in pecuniary matters, and ended by saying—­

’You see, Mrs. Rymer, that I have to live as carefully as I can.  This house is really all I have to depend upon, and—­and—­’

Again she was spared the unpleasant utterance.  With an irresistible smile, and laying her soft hand on the visitor’s ill-fitting glove, Mrs. Rymer began to reveal the happy thought which had occurred to her.  In the house there was a spare room; why should not Miss Shepperson come and live here—­live, that is to say, as a member of the family?  Nothing simpler than to arrange the details of such a plan, which, of course, must be ’strictly businesslike,’ though carried out in a spirit of mutual goodwill.  A certain sum of money was due to her for rent; suppose this were repaid in the form of board and lodging, which might be reckoned at—­should one say, fifteen shillings a week?  At midsummer next an account would be drawn up, ’in a thoroughly businesslike way,’ and whatever then remained due to Miss Shepperson would be paid at once; after which, if the arrangement proved agreeable to both sides, it might be continued, cost of board and lodging being deducted from the rent, and the remainder paid ‘with regularity’ every quarter.  Miss Shepperson would thus have a home—­a real home—­with all family comforts, and Mrs. Rymer, who was too much occupied with house and children to see much society, would have the advantage of a sympathetic friend under her own roof.  The good lady’s voice trembled with joyous eagerness as she unfolded the project, and her eyes grew large as she waited for the response.

Miss Shepperson felt such astonishment that she could only reply with incoherencies.  An idea so novel and so strange threw her thoughts into disorder.  She was alarmed by the invitation to live with people who were socially her superiors.  On the other hand, the proposal made appeal to her natural inclination for domestic life; it offered the possibility of occupation, of usefulness.  Moreover, from the pecuniary point of view, it would be so very advantageous.

‘But,’ she stammered at length, when Mrs. Rymer had repeated the suggestion in words even more gracious and alluring, ’but fifteen shillings is so very little for board and lodging.’