Miss Merivales Mistake

Miss Merivale's Mistake, by Mrs.
Henry Clarke

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Title: Miss Merivale's Mistake
Author: Mrs. Henry Clarke
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MISS MERIVALE'S MISTAKE
By
MRS. HENRY CLARKE, M.A.

[Illustration: PAULINE SAT DOWN IN THE LOW CHAIR BY THE
WINDOW AND TOOK UP THE PHOTOGRAPH FRAME.]

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
A STARTLING DISCOVERY II. WOODCOTE III. A VISIT TO
KENTISH TOWN IV. TOM AND RHODA MEET V. "A MERRY
HEART GOES ALL THE WAY" VI. PAULINE'S DIPLOMACY VII.
APPLES OF SODOM VIII. AN INVITATION IX. PAULINE HAS
HER SUSPICIONS X. A CONFESSION XI. POLLY SMITH XII.
CONCLUSION

ILLUSTRATIONS
PAULINE SAT DOWN IN THE LOW CHAIR BY THE WINDOW
AND TOOK UP THE PHOTOGRAPH FRAME.
PAULINE LEANT AGAINST THE DRESSER AND WATCHED
HER.
HE STARED AT HER, NOT COMPREHENDING.
CHAPTER I.
A STARTLING DISCOVERY.
Miss Merivale had not been paying much heed to the eager talk that
was going on between Rose and Pauline Smythe at the window.
The long drive from Woodcote had made her head ache, and she was
drowsily wishing that Miss Smythe would get her the cup of tea she
had promised, when the sound of a name made her suddenly sit bolt
upright, her kind old face full of anxious curiosity.
"Rhoda Sampson, the creature calls herself," Pauline was saying in her
clear, high-pitched voice. "Her people live in Kentish Town, or
somewhere in the dim wilds about there. You would know it by just
looking at her."
"Does she come from Kentish Town every day?" asked Rose.
"Three times a week. On the top of an omnibus, one may be sure. And
she imbibes facts from The Civil Service Geography all the way. I
found the book in her bag yesterday. I believe she wants to get into the
Post Office eventually. It is a worthy ambition."
"Whom are you talking of, my dears?" asked Miss Merivale from her
seat by the fire. Pauline turned round with a little stare. Miss Merivale
was so quiet and unassuming a personage that she had got into the habit

of ignoring her. "Of Clare's new amusement, Miss Merivale," she said,
with a laugh. Her laugh, like her voice, was a trifle hard. "It was
scientific dressmaking when I was at Woodcote last, you remember,
Rose dear. Now it is a society. Clare is secretary."
"But you spoke of some girl who came here," persisted Miss Merivale.
Pauline lifted her delicately-pencilled eyebrows. "Oh, that is Clare's
typewriter. She is part of the joke. If you saw Clare and her together
over their letters, you would think they were reforming the universe. It
hasn't dawned on poor Sampson yet that Clare will get tired of the
whole business in a month. It is lucky she has the Post Office to fall
back on. Clare is exactly what she used to be at school, Rose,
'everything by starts and nothing long.' It amuses me to watch her."
"She doesn't tire of you, Pauline," said Rose fondly.
Pauline frowned a little. She did not care to be reminded, even by
foolish, flattering little Rose, that she was, in sober fact, nothing more
nor less than Clare's paid companion.
"Oh, we get on," she said coolly. "We each leave the other to go her
own way in peace. And it suits Lady Desborough in Rome to say that
Clare is living with her old governess. People think of me as a
spectacled lady of an uncertain age, and everybody is satisfied. But you
would like some tea. I wish Clare was in. She isn't afraid of that gas
stove. I am ashamed to confess