A tinge of carmine flickered into the cheek of his companion and faded swiftly again. "I was," she said. "The commercial school found a place for me, but it was impossible that I should stay there."
Alton half closed his eyes, and the girl noticed his big hand slowly clenched, for he fancied he understood. "It's a pity I wasn't a brother of yours, Miss Nellie. I should like to see those folks," he said. "Still, you have known me a long while, and that's something to go upon."
"I'm afraid it's not sufficient," said the girl hastily, with a little smile.
"Well," said Alton, with a sigh, "you have got hold of something better."
Miss Townshead appeared to make an endeavour to answer hopefully, but again her fingers trembled, and there was a little less courage than usual in her eyes. "Not yet, but I shall soon," she said.
"Of course," said Alton gravely. "Now how long have you been looking for it?"
"A month," said the girl without reflection, and Alton nodded as though in answer to some question he had put to himself.
"And when you went into that place this morning there was nothing again?" he said.
"No," said Miss Townshead, with a trace of despondency she could not quite conceal. "There was a post vacant, but it had some trust attached to it, and nobody knows me."
Now while he talked Alton's eyes had been busy, and he had noticed a curious weariness which he had not seen before in his companion's face. Her fingers, which had grown white, were also very slender, and the well-worn dress, which he remembered, did not seem to hang about her as it had done. Her eyes, however, were brighter, and now and then a little florid colour flushed her cheeks, but that did not please him, for Alton had seen not a little of want and hunger in the snows of the North.