WHAT made me look at that horrid old newspaper? I never do, as a rule. It’s just my luck; that and my conscience are always landing me in fresh folly. This is not exactly folly, I suppose; it’s a sensible idea; but sometimes that’s worse.
    Mother had been groaning and saying that money was so short we shouldn’t be able to have any festi­vities for Christmas; that the cost of education was heavier every year, etc., etc., till one felt it was almost a crime to have learnt one’s a b c, not to speak of a finishing year in Paris. And then, just for something to do, I took up the newspaper, and there was that wretched advertisement staring me in the face:

    “Holiday engagement. Wanted, a bright, musical young lady to assist hostess and make herself generally useful in country-house, where large parties of friends are entertained. Liberal terms. References required.”

    My heart thumped; a nasty, cold, sickly feeling crawled over me. I felt in my bones that it was fate, and that I should have to go and be generally useful, instead of being lazy at home.
    I was bright, I was musical, the liberal terms were just what I needed, and no end of worthy acquaint­ances would leap and bound at the prospect of giving references and “turning dear Lesbia’s educational advantages to account.” Mother would demur out of a sense of duty, but at the bottom of her heart she would rejoice to be able to pay the gas bill with my fees, and Joan and Monica would fuss and sympathise and privately think it would be very convenient to have my room. No one is really missed in this world, however great and unselfish he may be!
    It just occurs to me that I might burn the paper and say nothing, and no one would be a whit the wiser. No one expects me to go anywhere or do anything in the Christmas holidays, but enjoy myself as much as I can; no one has breathed a word of holiday engagements; no one would be disappointed or annoyed. There’s no need to speak and upset all our plans, yet somehow I must; I can’t rest and be aisey. It’s that old conscience of mine. I do think it’s the most obtrusive thing that was ever born. I shall have no peace now unless I do all that I can to get the post.
    Happy thought! Perhaps I shall fail!

*     *     *    

    It’s all settled. I knew it would be! Just because I didn’t want to go, everything has slid along without a hitch. Lady Maton (we asked her because she has a title, and it sounded grand) wrote to say that “Lesbia May was a charming young thing, quite a brilliant musician, and gifted with unusual powers of initiation and resource.” Funny how differently the same qualities can be described at different times! When I stayed with her she thought me “sadly independent and self-willed!” Mrs. Farrington wrote back engaging me, by return of post, and said that she was so glad to hear that I had initiative, for she did not want to be bothered by always telling me what to do; she wanted some one who would just slip into her place and perform the little duties which would fall to a daughter of the house. Mother said that sounded delightfully easy. We girls thought it might be pretty hard.
    Monica has lent me her best lace blouse. I’ve promised not to wear it more than four times, and never with a coat. Also her long chain with the turquoises—any stones lost to be replaced, but she takes the risk of total loss. I do like to have things clearly understood.
    Joan has sold me her black satin evening frock for thirty shillings. It looks quite good by lamplight and she threw in a pink scarf. I don’t suppose holiday helps are expected to be smart, but I’ll look my best, or perish in the attempt.
    Mother said: “Be sure to be quiet and unassum­ing and keep well in the background.”
    Monica said: “Whatever you do, don’t be a white mouse, but put on airs and let them see you are as good as they.”
    Joan said: “In books, where a girl goes to a place like that she marries the duke and lives happy ever after. I hope you’ll remember the scarf and send me a hamper once a week.”
    Father said: “The fare is twenty-five shillings. Girls are not expected to give tips. You ought to do it well on two pounds ten.”