A City Schoolgirl and Her Friends. Baldwin May

tell her we will be out of it' – she hesitated a moment, and her voice trembled as she added, 'as soon as we can move the furniture; in a week, if possible.'

      Still David lingered. 'It's just that – the furniture, I mean – that she'll be after, I'm thinking. I know it's hard on you, missie. But you must just be brave and the Laird's daughter; and, if you could make up your mind to it, just see the leddy and her husband; they're no' bad, though they're no' the quality.'

      David M'Taggart had nursed Stella in his arms as a baby, and had been the old Laird's right hand. In fact, when Mr. Wharton was deep in his literary labours, David had kept things about the place straighter than they would otherwise have been; and if his education had been better, and he had been allowed, he would probably have managed the money matters of his late master, and prevented the Laird allowing them to get into the disastrous state they were found to be in after his death, of which state the late Laird was, happily for him, though unfortunately for his daughters, quite ignorant.

      Stella listened to David's advice, and replied, 'Very well, David, I will see this lady. What is her name?'

      'It's a fine name – Mrs. Montague Jones she calls herself; but it's with him I'd do business, if I may be so bold as to say so, for he's a fair man, and not so keen on a bargain as she.'

      To this piece of advice the girl made no reply, but followed the old butler out of the room and down the wide staircase to the drawing-room. At the door she paused involuntarily, as David threw it open for her and announced, 'This is Miss Wharton, mem.'

      The short, thick-set business man, who was standing looking out of one of the windows, turned sharply round at the words; and, as he told his wife afterwards, was 'fairly taken aback to see that beautiful young lady standing there like a princess in the doorway and looking down upon us.'

      And his wife – a handsome woman herself, who was sitting at a table examining some old silver, of which the Laird had a fine collection – though she answered him rather sharply to the effect that the 'looking down' ought to be on their side rather than the Whartons', was conscious somehow of a feeling of inferiority. However, she rose, and, coming forward, said civilly and kindly enough, 'I must apologise, Miss Wharton, for this intrusion, and it's only because I think we may be able to be of use to you' – Here Mrs. Montague Jones stopped abruptly, for Stella's pride had risen, and she stiffened visibly.

      'My wife doesn't mean that, Miss Wharton. What we wished to ask was a favour to us, for which we would willingly make a return. I'm a business man, and you are a young lady who knows nothing about business,' Mr. Montague Jones now put in.

      But Stella did not look any better pleased as she answered civilly but distantly, 'In that case would it not be better to address yourself to our lawyer, who is a man of business?' Stella had been her father's secretary for so long that she spoke in a slightly stilted English with a Scotch accent.

      'Quite right, and so we did, but he told us he could do nothing without you' – Mr. Stacey had said that he could do nothing with her on this particular matter – 'and we have taken the liberty of coming straight to the fountain-head, so to speak. It's about this furniture now.'

      But Stella interrupted hastily, 'I am afraid you have given yourself unnecessary trouble' – and her looks said 'and me too' – 'for I have no intention of parting with it.'

      A gleam came into the man's eye, whether of anger at her haughtiness or admiration at the spirit which could refuse a possibly advantageous business offer was not clear, with poverty staring her in the face; but he laid a hand on his wife's arm to prevent her speaking, and continued quietly, and in a kind and friendly tone, 'No one has asked you to do that, Miss Wharton. I feel with you that however valuable furniture or silver or that kind of thing may be, it is doubly valuable to the owner, especially when, as in your case, it has been in the family for a long time, and I should be the last to counsel you to part with it.'

      Miss Wharton looked surprised, and so did Mrs. Jones, who stared at her husband in amazement.

      'In that case, I fail to see' – began the girl, and then hesitated.

      'You fail to see what proposal I have to make about the furniture? If you'll have a little patience I'll tell you. I've just seen your lawyer, and a very nice man he is, and has your interests at heart, for which you may be thankful, as they are not all so. I hear you are thinking of going to London. Now, you can't take all this fine furniture with you; it would get knocked to pieces on the way there, besides costing no end of money, and you'd want a mansion to put it in when you got there, which you won't have just yet, though you will have again one day, I hope. Now what, may I ask, do you mean to do with it?'

      'I don't know. I shall warehouse it here, I suppose,' said Stella, who had no clear ideas on the subject.

      'That's just what I was going to suggest. Why not leave it all here, with the exception of any little things or specially valuable belongings that you 'd like to put away, and let us pay a fair sum for the use of them. They'll not spoil, for they are old and well-made, and there'll only be the wife and me and Jamie, that's our son and heir – ahem! a quiet, well-behaved young fellow – and none of us will knock it about; besides, your man M'Taggart has agreed – condescended I might say – to stay on with us for the present, and he'll be free to write and tell you if it's being badly used; and we'll put a clause in the agreement that if M'Taggart thinks it is in bad hands you have the right to order its removal in twenty-four hours,' announced Mr. Jones.

      'Really, Monty' – cried his wife; but her husband pressed her arm, and patiently waited for Stella's reply.

      The girl puckered her brows; it would be a way out of the difficulty. But she did not feel equal to settling the matter herself, and answered doubtfully, 'If Mr. Stacey approves, I should have no objection – that is to say, I would agree; but I should like some of my mother's things put away.'

      'Oh of course, we quite understand that, Miss Wharton, and we will have everything put down in black and white by your lawyer,' said Mr. Montague Jones.

      Stella, who had taken the seat offered her by her undesired visitor, now rose to put an end to the interview; and then a sudden thought struck her. These people had motored from the south, and perhaps had come far that day – at any rate from the nearest town, a good many miles off – and she had not even offered them a cup of tea, and her Scotch hospitality forbade her to let them depart without doing so much. She accordingly offered it, and Mrs. Jones accepted the offer so gladly that her young hostess felt ashamed of herself; and, ringing the bell, she ordered in tea.

      The interval of waiting might have been rather awkward; but not long after David had answered the summons the door opened, and in walked Vava.

      Mr. and Mrs. Jones had an idea that Scotch girls in general were plain and hard-featured, hence their surprise at Stella's appearance; and Vava, though she was at an awkward age, and had not Stella's beauty, was a bright, fresh-looking girl, with merry, laughing eyes which no trouble could dim for long, and she too fitted in with her surroundings.

      'How do you do? David will bring the tea in a minute, and there are still some scones left,' she announced, without waiting to be introduced.

      Mr. Jones shook her hand heartily. 'That's good hearing; we lunched early, and I've been with lawyers ever since, and worried with business, about which you luckily know nothing; and scones – which we poor ignorant Londoners call "scoones" – sounds very inviting.'

      'So they are, deliciously inviting; but as for your business, I just do know something about it,' Vava observed.

      'Vava!' cried Stella horrified.

      Mr. Jones laughed, not in the least embarrassed, though he had not meant to be taken up so. 'Ah well, business is business and pleasure is pleasure, and I don't believe in mixing them, though some people do. Business is over for this afternoon, and now I am having the pleasure of making your acquaintance.'

      'Do you go to school, Miss Wharton?' inquired his wife, putting the first question ladies seem invariably to put to girls in their teens.

      'No, but I am going to a day-school when we get to London. Do you know any nice ones there, not too dear?' inquired Vava.

      Stella coloured hotly, and looked