The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. ‘Do that again,’ he said softly, ‘and I’ll make you sorry you ever came to England. Don’t look so frightened. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. He stood still, almost breathless. ” She said wistfully. Accordingly, having given Wood such directions as he thought necessary for his guidance, and received a handsome gratuity in return for his services, he departed. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. ‘That’s what comes of disarming yourself.
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