of the establishment.  After a time, Mavis found that there was another broad divergence between her fellow-workers, which was quite irrespective of the department in which they were.  There was a type of girl, nearly always the best-looking, which seemed to have an understanding and freemasonry of its own, together with secrets, confidences, and conversations, which were never for the ears of those who were outsiders—­in the sense of their not being members of this sisterhood.  Miss Potter, Miss Allen, and Miss Impett all belonged to this set, which nearly always went out after shop hours in evening dress, which never seemed to want for ready money or pretty clothes, and which often went away for the weekend ("Dawes’” closed at two on Saturdays).  When Mavis had first been introduced to the three girls with whom she shared her bedroom, she had intuitively felt that there was a broad, invisible gulf which lay between her and them; as time went on, this division widened, so far as Miss Impett and Miss Potter were concerned, to whom Mavis rarely spoke.  Miss Allen, who, in all other respects, toadied to and imitated Miss Potter, was disposed to be friendly to Mavis.  Miss Impett, who on occasion swore like any street loafer, Mavis despised as a common, ignorant girl.  Miss Potter she knew to be fast; but Miss Allen, when alone with Mavis, went out of her way to be civil to her; the fact of the matter being that she was a weak, easily led girl, whose character was dominated by any stronger nature with which she came in contact.

Another thing which much surprised Mavis was the heartless cruelty the girls displayed to any of their number who suffered from any physical defect.  Many times in the day would the afflicted one be reminded of her infirmity; the consequent tears incited the tormentors to a further display of malignity.

Bella, the servant, was an object of their attentions; her gait and manner of breathing would be imitated when she was by.  She was always known by the name of “Pongo,” till one of the “young ladies” had witnessed The Tempest from the upper boxes of His Majesty’s Theatre; from this time, it was thought to be a mark of culture on the part of many of the girls at “Dawes’” to call her “Caliban.”  Mavis sympathised with the afflicted woman’s loneliness; she made one or two efforts to be friendly with her, but each time was repulsed.

One day, however, Mavis succeeded in penetrating the atmosphere of ill-natured reserve with which “Pongo” surrounded herself.  The servant was staggering upstairs with two big canfuls of water; the task was beyond her strength.

“Let me help you,” said Mavis, who was coming up behind her.

Shan’t,” snorted Bella.

“I shall do as I please,” remarked Mavis, as she caught hold of one of the cans.

“Leave ’old!” cried Bella; but Mavis only grasped the can tighter.

“Go on now; don’t you try and get round me and then turn an’ laugh at me.”