“Except that I would like you both—yes, both—to see Lady Marian Dixie, a very old client of mine, who was a friend of your mother’s, and I believe, would give you advice, and perhaps help you to find situations. Lady Marian is in London, and if you wish it, I will arrange that you shall have an interview with her. What day would suit you both?”
“Any day,” said Brenda.
Florence was silent.
“Here is a five-pound note between you. It is your own money—five pounds out of your remaining eighty pounds. Be very careful of it. I will endeavour to see Lady Marian on Monday, and will write to you. Ah, there is my cab. You can tell Mrs Fortescue or not, just as you please. Good-bye now, my dears, good-bye. I am truly sorry, truly sorry; but those who work for their own living are not the most unhappy people, and you are well-educated; your poor father saw to that. Don’t blame the dead, Brenda. Florence, think kindly of the dead.”
Chapter Three.
Plans for the Future.
Mrs Fortescue was full of curiosity.
The girls were absolutely silent. She talked with animation of their usually gay programme for Christmas. The Blundells and the Arbuthnots and the Aylmers had all invited them to Christmas parties. Of course they would go. They were to dine with the Arbuthnots on the following evening. She hoped the girls had pretty dresses.