“The postman would be corrupt already,” said Grace, as Rachel thought the last speech too mocking to be worthy of reply, and went on picking up her letters.

“There is another objection,” added Captain Keith, as he watched her busy fingers.  “Have you considered how you are frightening people out of the society?  It is enough to make one only subscribe as Michael Miserly or as Simon Skinflint, or something equally uninviting to applications.”

“I shall ask you to subscribe by both names!” said Rachel, readily.  “How much for Simon Skinflint?”

“Ten pounds.  Stop—­when Mr. Mauleverer gives him a reference.”

“That’s ungenerous.  Will Michael Miserly make up for it?”

“Yes, when the first year’s accounts have been audited.”

“Ah! those who have no faith to make a venture can never effect any good.”

“You evidently build on a great amount of faith from the public.  How do you induce them to believe—­do you write in your own name?”

“No, it makes mamma unhappy.  I was going to put R. C., but Grace said people would think it meant Roman Catholic.  Your sister thought I had better put the initials of Female Union for Lacemaker’s Employment.”

“You don’t mean that Bessie persuaded you to put that?” exclaimed Alick Keith, more nearly starting up than Rachel had ever seen him.

“Yes.  There is no objection, is there?”

“Oh, Rachel, Rachel, how could we have helped thinking of it?” cried Grace, nearly in a state of suffocation.

Rachel held up her printed appeal, where subscriptions were invited to the address of F. U. L. E., the Homestead, Avonmouth.

“Miss Curtis, though you are not Scottish, you ought to be well read in Walter Scott.”

“I have thought it waste of time to read incorrect pictures of pseudo-chivalry since I have been grown up,” said Rachel.  “But that has nothing to do with it.”

“Ah, Rachel, if we had been more up in our Scotch, we should have known what F. U. L. E. spells,” sighed Grace.

A light broke in upon Rachel.  “I am sure Bessie never could have recollected it,” was her first exclamation.  “But there,” she continued, too earnest to see or stumble at straws, “never mind.  It cannot be helped, and I dare say not one person in ten will be struck by it.”

“Stay,” said Grace, “let it be Englishwoman’s Employment.  See, I can very easily alter the L into an E.”

Rachel would hardly have consented, but was forced to yield to her mother’s entreaties.  However, the diligent transformation at L’s did not last long, for three days after a parcel was left at the Homestead containing five thousand printed copies of the appeal, with the E rightly inserted.  Bessie laughed, and did not disavow the half reluctant thanks for this compensation for her inadvertence or mischief, whichever it might be, laughing the more at Rachel’s somewhat ungrateful confession that she had rather