The contrast between Mrs Ellis’s neat, unassuming respectability and her language to the men made Mavis smile.

“I’m glad you’ve taken it sensible,” remarked her landlady.  “Many’s the good lodger I’ve lost through that there window being open.”

Tea put fresh heart into Mavis.  It was ten days since she had last called on Mr Goss:  she resolved to make a further attempt.  He was in, she learned from the maid-of-all-work, who opened the door of Mr Goss’s house.

On asking to see him, she was shown into a double drawing-room, the front part of which was tolerably furnished; but Mavis could not help noticing that the back was quite shabby; unframed coloured prints, taken from Christmas numbers of periodicals, were fastened to the walls with tin tacks.

Mr Goss came into the room wiping his mouth with his handkerchief.  Mavis feared that she had interrupted a meal.  Whether she had or not, he was glad to see her and asked if he could help her.  Mavis told him how she was situated.  In reply, he said that he had a friend who was a man of some importance in a West-end emporium.  He asked her if she would like a letter of introduction to this person.  Mavis jumped at the offer.  When he had written the letter, Mavis asked after his daughter, to learn that she was staying at Margate with her mother.  When Mavis thanked and said good-bye to Mr Goss, he warmly pressed the hand that she offered.

The next day, she presented herself at the great house of business where Mr Goss’s friend was to be found.  His name was Evans.  It was only after delay that she was able to see him.  He was a grave, kindly-looking man, who scanned Mavis with interest before he read Mr Goss’s letter.  Mavis could almost hear the beating of her heart while she waited to see if he could offer her anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as he folded up the letter.

Mavis could not trust herself to speak.

“Very sorry I can’t oblige you or Mr Goss,” continued the man.  “All our vacancies were filled last week.  I’ve nothing at present.”

Mavis turned to go.

“You want something to do at once?” said Mr Evans, as he noticed the girl’s dismay.

Mavis nodded.  The man went on: 

“They’d probably take you at Dawes’.”

“Dawes’!” echoed Mavis hopefully.

“Do you know anything of Dawes’?”

“Everyone knows Dawes’,” smiled Mavis.

“But do you know anything of the place, as it affects girls who live there?”

“No,” answered Mavis, who scarcely heeded what Mr Evans was saying; all her thoughts were filled by a great joy at a prospect of getting work.

She was conscious of the man saying something about her consulting Mrs Goss before thinking of going there; but she did not give this aspect of the matter another moment’s thought.

“What name shall I ask for?” asked Mavis.

“Mr Orgles, if you go.”