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did not henceforth develop according to that lady’s ideas and expectations.

She dismissed Pamela now with a kindly pat—she must rest for a while and trust everything to a Higher Power—and Mrs. Taylor. This division of authority was so simply stated that Pamela had no more idea than Mrs. Taylor of questioning it. She rather wanted to put her head down on somebody’s sympathetic shoulder and cry hard for quite a long time; but her new friend, kind though she undoubtedly was, did not invite that, and Pamela went away with only a misty smile of gratitude.

They had another conversation the next morning. Mrs. Taylor’s first suggestion was what Pamela had feared.

“You say you have a little money, my dear? Then I think you really ought to go back to England, where you have relations.”

“I—I don’t want to do that, Mrs. Taylor. I———” she hesitated.

“Have you quarrelled with your people?”

“Not exactly. They are not pleased with me, though. You see, they wanted me to do something I couldn’t do—really I couldn’t—it wasn’t a fair or right thing; they may have found it out for themselves by now. And, in any case, I have to earn my own living somewhere, whether I go back to England or not, and I would so very much prefer to stay away.”

“If only I were at home I should most likely be able to help you find something to do. You have no idea how many girls have found pleasant positions through me, but that is in Australia—I live in Queensland, you know. And here I am as much of a stranger as yourself. I can do nothing, particularly as my boat sails to-morrow.”

“To-morrow!” There was complete dismay in Pamela’s voice, but she clutched at the one straw that offered.