'Why impossible?' asked Stella quietly. 'Hundreds and thousands of girls do it who are not even as old as I am.'
'Yes, but not girls like you,' said the lawyer. He stopped from sheer inability to express what he meant and felt, which was that such an exceptionally pretty girl as Stella Wharton ought not to start life alone in London and be thrown on her own resources, even though she was a thoroughly trustworthy girl and had a younger sister to live with her. 'You do not know anything about London, or even what a town is like; you have lived in this little Scotch village (for it is not much more), as far as I know, all your life, and the thing would never do. It's—it's impossible!' he wound up; 'you could not possibly do it!'
'It is not a case of could; it is a case of must,' quoted Stella, with the ghost of a smile, as she repeated the old man's words of a few minutes ago.
'Yes, yes,' he said; 'you must live, I know that; but even supposing that it would be possible for you to earn your living, and even to earn it as a secretary, you would not be able to earn enough at first to keep yourself, let alone keep your sister as well.'
'We could live on very little,' pleaded Stella; and here she brought out from her purse a slip from a newspaper. 'I thought of answering this.' So saying, she handed it to the old lawyer, who read an advertisement for a secretary in a City office who could typewrite quickly and correctly, and transcribe difficult manuscripts in French and English.
'You might be able to do this,' said the lawyer, 'for, to be sure, you are both excellent French scholars; but a City office'——He looked most disapproving. 'Well,' he said, 'there is no harm in answering it; or suppose you let me answer it for you?'
'I was going to ask you whether you would give me a testimonial; but if you would write for me it would be very, very kind of you,' replied Stella.
'Very well,' said Mr. Stacey with a sigh, 'I shall write to this man; but no doubt he will have hundreds of other applications. The pay is good, and girls who can typewrite are to be found by the thousand nowadays.'
'Yes,' said Stella eagerly; 'but he says "an educated person," and I read in the papers the other day that three-quarters of the girls who go in for typewriting cannot even write their own language, so they probably would not be able to write French.'
'But thirty-five shillings a week! How are you going to live upon thirty-five shillings a week?' inquired the lawyer.