"I've got a berth--with Madame Amelie--old Mrs. Crump, you know--in Earl's Court Road. One of her girls is leaving--"
"Got the sack?" enquired Mrs. Welwyn, rearranging the tablecloth.
"No. She's only"--Tilly's voice quavered ever so slightly--"going to be married. I've got her place, and I 'm once more an independent lady."
"That's capital news, Tilly," said Mrs. Welwyn heartily. At any rate, her daughter would have something to occupy her mind.
"Now the next thing to do," proceeded Tilly with great animation, "is to get rid of the broker's man. We ought to be able to raise the money all right. I'm at work again. Dad has had an offer of newspaper articles; and if only we can get Mr. Pumpherston's room let--"
"The broker's man has gone, Sis," said Amelia.
"Gone?" cried Tilly and Mrs. Welwyn in a breath.
"Well, gone out, anyhow. I saw him shuffling across the Square half an hour ago."
"My lord will find the chain up when he comes back," said Mrs. Welwyn grimly.
"Still, we must find the money," persisted Tilly. "We have never been in debt yet, and we are never going to be." Her slight figure stiffened proudly. "Independence! That's the only thing worth having in this world. Be independent! Owe nothing to nobody!"