CHAPTER II.
"Well, Marcella, have you and Lady Winterbourne arranged your classes ?" Mrs.Boyce was stooping over a piece of needlework beside a window in the Mellor drawing-room, trying to catch the rapidly failing light.

It was one of the last days of December.

Marcella had just come in from the village rather early, for they were expecting a visitor to arrive about tea time, and had thrown herself, tired, into a chair near her mother.
"We have got about ten or eleven of the younger women to join; none of the old ones will come," said Marcella.

"Lady Winterbourne has heard of a capital teacher from Dunstable, and we hope to get started next week.
There is money enough to pay wages for three months." In spite of her fatigue, her eye was bright and restless.

The energy of thought and action from which she had just emerged still breathed from every limb and feature.
"Where have you got the money ?" "Mr.Raeburn has managed it," said Marcella, briefly.
Mrs.Boyce gave a slight shrug of the shoulders.
"And afterwards--what is to become of your product ?" "There is a London shop Lady Winterbourne knows will take what we make if it turns out well.