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tea-time when he went in. Maud was not at home, and Mrs
Milvain, tormented by a familiar headache, kept her room; so Jasper
and Dora sat down together. Each had an open book on the table;
throughout the meal they exchanged only a few words.
    'Going to play a little?' Jasper suggested when they had gone
into the sitting-room.
    'If you like.'
    She sat down at the piano, whilst her brother lay on the sofa,
his hands clasped beneath his head. Dora did not play badly, but an
absentmindedness which was commonly observable in her had its
effect upon the music. She at length broke off idly in the middle
of a passage, and began to linger on careless chords. Then, without
turning her head, she asked:
    'Were you serious in what you said about writing
storybooks?'
    'Quite. I see no reason why you shouldn't do something in that
way. But I tell you what; when I get back, I'll inquire into the
state of the market. I know a man who was once engaged at Jolly
& Monk's—the chief publishers of that kind of thing, you know;
I must look him up—what a mistake it is to neglect any
acquaintance!—and get some information out of him. But it's obvious
what an immense field there is for anyone who can just hit the
taste of the' new generation of Board school children. Mustn't be
too goody-goody; that kind of thing is falling out of date. But
you'd have to cultivate a particular kind of vulgarity.
    There's an idea, by-the-bye. I'll write a paper on the
characteristics of that new generation; it may bring me a few
guineas, and it would be a help to you.'
    'But what do you know about the subject?' asked Dora
doubtfully.
    'What a comical question! It is my business to know something
about every subject—or to know where to get the knowledge.'
    'Well,' said Dora, after a pause, 'there's no doubt Maud and I
ought to think very seriously about the future. You are aware,
Jasper, that mother has not been able to save a penny of her
income.'
    'I don't see how she could have done. Of course I know what
you're thinking; but for me, it would have been possible. I don't
mind confessing to you that the thought troubles me a little now
and then; I shouldn't like to see you two going off governessing in
strangers' houses. All I can say is, that I am very honestly
working for the end which I am convinced will be most
profitable.
    I shall not desert you; you needn't fear that. But just put your
heads together, and cultivate your writing faculty. Suppose you
could both together earn about a hundred a year in Grub Street, it
would be better than governessing; wouldn't it?'
    'You say you don't know what Miss Yule writes?'
    'Well, I know a little more about her than I did yesterday. I've
had an hour's talk with her this afternoon.'
    'Indeed?'
    'Met her down in the Leggatt fields. I find she doesn't write
independently; just helps her father. What the help amounts to I
can't say. There's something very attractive about her. She quoted
a line or two of Tennyson; the first time I ever heard a woman
speak blank verse with any kind of decency.'
    'She was walking alone?'
    'Yes. On the way back we met old Yule; he seemed rather grumpy,
I thought. I don't think she's the kind of girl to make a paying
business of literature. Her qualities are personal. And it's pretty
clear to me that the valley of the shadow of books by no means
agrees with her disposition. Possibly old Yule is something of a
tyrant.'
    'He doesn't impress me very favourably. Do you think you will
keep up their acquaintance in London?'
    'Can't say. I wonder what sort of a woman that mother really is?
Can't be so very gross, I should think.'
    'Miss Harrow knows nothing about her, except that she was a
quite uneducated girl.'
    'But, dash it! by this time she must have got decent manners. Of
course there may be other objections. Mrs Reardon knows nothing
against her.'
    Midway in the following morning, as Jasper sat with a book in
the garden, he was surprised to see Alfred Yule enter by the
gate.
    'I thought,' began