In less than six weeks the Stauntons were settled in London. George had taken lodgings for them in a cheap part of Bayswater. The rooms were high up in a dismal sort of house. There were a sitting room and three small bedrooms. George occupied one—Effie and the girls another—Mrs. Staunton, the baby, and little Phil the third. It seemed to Effie as if they had always lived in this uninteresting house, looking out on that narrow dismal street. They knew nobody. Their lives were very dull. Mrs. Staunton occupied herself over George, morning, noon, and night. She mended his clothes with scrupulous care; she washed his shirts herself, and took immense pride in bringing the fronts up to a wonderful polish. There was not a young man in the City who went to his daily work with such snowy collars as George, such neat cuffs, such a look of general finish. This work delighted Mrs. Staunton—it brought smiles to her eyes and a look of satisfaction to her face.

Effie had got the money from Mr. Harvey, and had handed it without a word to George.

He took it; his face flushed all over—tears filled his eyes.

He said, "God bless you, Effie; you are the bravest, best sister a man ever had"; and then he went out of the room and out of the house.

"He never asked me where I got it," thought poor Effie; "and now there's the interest to pay, and how can it possibly be taken out of our hundred a year?97 Mother must never, never know; but how is that interest to be paid?"

The Stauntons had been settled about a fortnight in their new home, when Dorothy came to pay them a visit.

She was very busy in her hospital life. She came in with her accustomed eager, purposeful walk. She sat down on the nearest chair, and began to talk cheerfully to the children and sympathetically to Mrs. Staunton.

As soon as she had an opportunity, however, she drew Effie aside.

"Now, my dear," she said, looking straight into Effie's brown eyes, "when are you coming to us?"

"Oh, if I could come," exclaimed Effie, "I should indeed be happy, but I don't see any chance of it."

"I do. You are not really wanted here; Agnes is growing a big girl. Your mother is devoted to your brother George; provided he comes home every evening, she scarcely gives a thought to anyone else. You can be spared, Effie, and it will be good for you. You do not look a bit the same girl. You have lost your 'go' somehow. You are very young. It is wrong to have a look like that when one is only twenty. You ought to come to the hospital, and there is a vacancy now for a probationer, if you can take it."

"If I dare to," said Effie, "but it does not seem right."

"Yes, I believe it is right. I know the matron of St. Joseph's Hospital so well that I think I can arrange with her that you should spend a part of every Sunday at home—at least, while you are training Agnes. The fact is, Effie, you are a born nurse, and it is a sin to lose you to the profession."

"I should like to come beyond anything," said98 Effie. "It is the very highest wish of my heart. The last night that I ever saw my dear father he spoke to me on this subject. He used to hate lady-nurses, but you won him over, Dorothy, and he said, if the time came, I could go with his blessing."

"Then surely that settles the matter," exclaimed Dorothy. "I'll speak to Mrs. Staunton before I leave to-day."

"Oh, no; don't! Mother seems quite happy and comfortable. I would not for the world do anything to upset or distress her."

"If it upsets and distresses her, you must give it up, that's all," said Dorothy, "but it is worth sounding her on the subject. Don't say a word, Effie, I'll speak to your mother about it."

Effie looked puzzled and anxious.

"I would give anything to go," she murmured to herself. "It is torture to live on here, thinking of nothing but how to make a hundred pounds a year pay everything that is expected of it. Then I should be one off the family purse, for all my expenses would be paid by the hospital. Yes, surely it must be right. At any rate, I'll allow Dorothy to speak."

When tea was over, George, who had come in, and was as usual devoting himself to his mother, tried to coax her to come out with him a little.

"No, not to-night," said Dorothy suddenly. "I have something very special to say to Mrs. Staunton—perhaps you would stay and listen too, George?"

George did not mind being called by his Christian name by Dorothy. She was regarded by the Stauntons as part and parcel of the family.

"I'll do anything to oblige you," he said, giving the handsome nurse a look of genuine admiration. "Come, mother, if we are not to go out, we can at least sit near each other."99

He drew up a chair close to his mother as he spoke, and put one of his arms round her neck. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and sat there in perfect content.

After a time one of his strong hands closed over hers. She had never, even in the doctor's time, felt more warmly and happily protected.

"Yes, Dorothy, what have you to say?" she remarked. "George and I are all attention."

"George and you!" laughed Dorothy. "I never saw such a devoted pair. Why, you are just like a pair of lovers."

"Well, we are lovers, aren't we, mother?" said the son.

"Yes, my boy," she replied. "No love was ever stronger than that which binds us together."

"I love to hear you say that," remarked Dorothy; "but now I want to talk on quite another matter. I am very anxious about Effie."

"Effie!" said Mrs. Staunton, just glancing at her daughter. "What about her? She seems quite well. Are you well, Effie?"

"Yes, mother, I am perfectly well," replied Effie.

"Oh, it is not that," said Dorothy, a touch of scorn coming into her voice. "Effie may be well in body, but she is just starved in soul."

"Starved!" said Mrs. Staunton, with a start "What do you mean, Dorothy?"

"Oh, never mind her, please, mother," said Effie in distress. "I am all right, really."

"No, she is not," continued Dorothy. "She is not right in the way I should like to see her right. The fact is, she wants a change."

"Poor child!" said Mrs. Staunton. "We are not rich enough to think of changes."

"The sort of change she wants will not cost you100 any money. The fact is, I want her to become what Heaven has intended her to be, a thoroughly trained hospital nurse. There is a vacancy now for a probationer at St. Joseph's, and I can get her admitted at once. May she come? That's the main point to consider."

Mrs. Staunton looked at Effie. Effie looked back at her mother.

It seemed to Effie at that moment as if she would have given anything for her mother to say, "No, I cannot spare her." On the contrary, Mrs. Staunton said in a calm voice:

"I leave the choice entirely to Effie herself. If she thinks she can be spared, she may go. The fact is............