CHAPTER VIII.

WAITING FOR A SITUATION.

HOWEVER, it was much easier for Mr. Stillington to tell me to keep my mind at rest than for me to do it. Though the assistance and protection which he instantly afforded me had turned this extraordinary enterprise of mine into a very different affair to what it would otherwise have been, yet still my position was one of such doubt and uncertainty that I could not but feel a little anxious. I had plenty of time, too, to think about my perplexing affairs, for of course I had nothing to do here in London. My host and hostess I never saw until dinner-time. My breakfast was sent up to me in my own room, and the rest of the day I spent in a parlour by myself; Mrs. Gorman never appearing until the return of her husband from his business in the even

ing. She had a sitting-room of her own in which she spent the afternoon, generally receiving visitors; but it seemed to be tacitly understood that I did not want to see strangers, and would prefer to be by myself; so I was never asked to appear there. But, in the evening, when we all met, nothing could be more kind and civil than they both were,

Mr. Stillington came to see me every day, at some time or another; he always told me not to worry myself, but to keep my mind at rest; but in answer to my question about the situation, he only replied that he was making inquiries," and "seeing what could be done."

I had written to my cousin Mountiford and Mrs. Thayer, bidding them to be in no trouble about me; but I had not written to Philip. And now I began to be anxious lest news of my disappearance should have reached him.

"He has heard nothing yet, I assure you,"

said Mr. Stillington.

"I saw him to-day at

the office, and he looked quite happy and well, as he could not do if he were in any anxiety about you."

"But I almost always wrote to him twice aweek; and now it will be a week to-morrow since I left Crawdour, and I have not written to him since the day before."

"He'll only think you've a cold in your head." This did not satisfy me. I knew how distressed Philip would be even to think that I had a cold in my head.

"I know he'll be very anxious, poor fellow!" Perhaps Mr. Stillington thought that I would rather think Philip would be anxious than not, for then he said,

Well, he did look rather disappointed when he found there was nothing for him among the letters to-day. I was in the office when the morning post came, and I noticed it.”

Tears rose to my eyes.

"But I'm sure he thought it was only a cold," said Mr. Stillington, hastening to comfort me. "And besides, you know a little anxiety and disappointment doesn't do a young fellow any harm; it is not well that everything should run too straight and smooth."

This I thought cruel.

"Philip has had anxiety and disappointment enough already," I said.

"H-um," said Mr. Stillington, in a notagreeing-with-me manner.

"Indeed he has, that you do not know of."

"I wonder what it was?" said Mr. Stillington, "You talked to somebody else before his eyes for five minutes, I suppose; or said 'No' some time when you meant 'Yes;' or some other dreadful severity as hard to bear?"

This was wrong, I knew. But, really, when I came to think of it, I could not remember any more acute sufferings that my lover had undergone on my account.

"On the whole," said Mr. Stillington, "I really do not think you need distress yourself at all about this young man for the present. If he is made a little anxious, it will only be for a very short time. We shall be able to relieve it, I have no doubt, in a day or two."

But it made me rather miserable to think that Philip should be anxious about me, even for a day or two. I began to wish very much that I had the situation, that I might be able to see him again, and set his mind at rest.