While Bertha was talking Florence remained quite silent.
"We must find out the next train to town," continued Bertha.
"I am not going back until you do what I want," said Florence. "I dare not. If you do not choose to have me at Aylmer's Court, I will stay here; but you must do what I want."
"What is that?"
"I want you to write an essay for me immediately."
"Oh, my dear, what utter folly! Really, when I think of the way in which I have helped you, and the splendid productions which are being palmed off to the world as yours, you might treat me with a little more consideration. My head is addled with all I have to do, and now you come down to ask me to write an essay."
"Listen, Bertha, listen," said poor Florence. She then told her story in as few words as possible.
"I made such a fool of myself. I was very nearly betrayed, but fortunately Mr. Franks and Mr. Anderson took it as a practical joke. I have promised that they shall have an admirable essay by to-morrow evening. You must write it; you must let me have it to take back with me."
"What is the subject?" said Bertha, who was now listening attentively.
"The modern woman and her new crazes. You know you have all that sort of thing at your finger-tips," said Florence, glancing at her companion.