“Let them discuss their business without us,” she said, “and I want to talk to you.  Here, these are some rather interesting photographs.  They are all actors or singers on this side; you’ll observe the shape of the heads, the contour generally; these are politicians, and have quite a different aspect.  Remarkable, isn’t it?  But I was just saying when we went down to dinner that I was awfully sorry to hear of all your troubles—­of course we must not regret that the man is alive; though if he is a cross-grained creature, as he seems to be, life won’t be much good to him—­and I shall be greatly interested if you care to tell me what your plans are.”

“I really have none.  There are several things I could do pretty well.  I could teach music and languages, but it is so difficult to find pupils.  Then I am still in great uncertainty as to what my cousin may do.”

“He is a greedy savage,” said Mrs. Needham, emphatically; “but he will not dare to demand the arrears.  He would raise a howl of execration by such conduct.  Now, as you have nothing settled, and if Angela Bradley and Miss Payne make it up, you will have to leave where you are.  Suppose you come to me?”

“To you?  My dear Mrs. Needham, it would be delightful.”

“Would it?  It is not a very magnificent appointment, I assure you.  You see, I have so much to do that I really must have help.  I had a girl for three or four months.  I gave her twenty-five pounds a year, and thought she would be a great comfort, but she made a mess of my room and my papers, and could not write a decent letter; besides, she was discontented, so she left me, and I have been in a horrid muddle for the last fortnight.  Now if you like to come to me, while you are looking out for something better, I am sure I shall be charmed, and will do all I can to push you.  It’s a miserable sort of engagement, but there it is; only I’ll want you to come as soon as you can, for there are heaps to do.”

“Indeed I am delighted to be your help, or secretary, or whatever you choose to call me, and as for looking for something better, if I can only save enough to provide for the boys, I would rather work with you for twenty-five pounds a year than any one else for—­”

“For five hundred?” put in Mrs. Needham, with an indulgent smile, as she paused.

“No, no.  Five hundred a year is not to be lightly rejected,” returned Katherine, laughing.  “But as I greatly doubt that I could ever be worth five hundred a year to any one, I gladly accept twenty-five.”

“Remember, I do not expect you to stay an hour after you find something better.  Now do me tell how matters stand with you.”

Katherine therefore unbosomed herself, and among other things told how well and faithfully Rachel Trant had behaved toward her, of the fatherly kindness shown her by her old lawyer, and wound up by declaring that the world could not be so bad a place as it is reckoned, seeing that in her reverse of fortune she had found so much consideration.  “Of course,” she concluded, “there are heaps of people who, once I drop from the ranks of those who can enjoy and spend, will forget my existence; but I have no right to expect more.  They only want playfellows, not friends, and ask no more than they give.”