womanwho
works
,
the
fret
and
fever
,
the
dreary
fight
for
existence
.
As
he
turned
back
down
the
clear
white
passages
,
with
their
soft
,
glowing
carpets
,
and
his
eye
caught
the
masses
of
transparent
flowers
within
,
the
sumptuousness
of
his
home
struck
him
for
the
first
time
as
ludicrously
incongruous
.
He
strode
back
into
his
studio
,
and
began
searching
among
his
portfolios
for
the
sketch
of
a
girl
's
head
which
he
wanted
for
the
new
picture
.
As
evening
fell
,
he
was
still
working
.
CHAPTER
XV
A
COMEDY
IN
REAL
LIFE
THE
first
act
was
over
,
the
curtain
was
down
again
.
A
buzzing
sound
was
heard
all
over
the
theatre
.
Men
were
standing
up
in
the
stalls
,
raking
the
house
with
their
opera-glasses
;
the
critics
were
seen
exchanging
significant
looks
and
portentous
monosyllables
;
while
here
and
there
was
visible
the
profile
of
a
pretty
woman
craning
her
neck
to
be
seen
speaking
to
some
distant
celebrity
.
The
house
,
viewed
from
above
,
was
one
compact
mass
of
human
beings
,
the
clear
,
pale
dresses
of
the
women
making
gay
patches
among
the
rows
of
black
coats
,
white
shirt
fronts
,
and
slightly
bald
heads
of
the
men
.
It
was
the
first
night
of
a
new
comedy
at
a
modish
theatre
.
In
the
private
boxes
the
little
canvas
doors
opened
continually
,
revealing
a
glimpse
of
the
begilded
corridor
darkened
by
the
figure
of
a
man
in
evening
dress
.
In
some
of
the
boxes
,
notably
that
of
Lady
Jane
Ives
,
the
door
opened
almost
with
the
regularity
of
a
machine
,
while
a
small
procession
of
young
gentlemen
sidled
in
and
out
.
‘All
mother
's
“
boys
”
will
be
here
before
the
evening
's
over
,
’
whispered
Alison
to
Mary
.
‘I
do
n't
know
whether
our
brains
will
hold
out.’
But
Alison
,
for
once
,
made
no
effort
to
entertain
them
,
for
hardly
had
the
curtain
fallen
when
Dr.
Dunlop
Strange
,
who
was
in
the
stalls
,
had
taken
the
chair
behind
her
,
and
had
begun
telling
her
of
a
new
medical
discovery
in
which
she
was
interested
.
For
the
moment
,
Mr.
Bosanquet-Barry
and
Mr.
Beaufort
Flower
were
the
other
occupants
of
the
back
chairs
.
‘Dr
.
Strange
,
you
've
got
to
personally
conduct
us
over
the
Whitechapel
Hospital
,
’
said
Alison
,
turning
her
beautiful
,
intelligent
eyes
upon
him
.
‘Miss
Erle
wants
to
write
something
about
a
hospital
,
and
you
can
explain
the
medical
details
to
her.’
‘When
will
you
come
?
’
said
the
doctor
eagerly
.
‘Oh
,
arrange
it
with
Mary
,
’
said
Alison
,
laughing
,
‘these
young
women
who
write
are
always
so
busy
.
At
present
I
'm
one
of
the
unemployed.’
‘Dear
Lady
Jane
,
’
objected
Mr.
Flower
,
patting
the
tuberoses
in
his
coat
,
‘you
're
not
going
to
allow
them
to
go
over
one
of
those
nasty
hospitals
?
Why
,
you
do
n't
know
what
they
will
catch
,
and
I
'm
told
the
language
of
the
patients
is
quite
ornamental.’
‘Allow
them
!
’
ejaculated
Lady
Jane
.
‘My
dear
Beaufy
,
if
you
had
a
grown-up
daughter
,
you
'd
find
that
you
were
“
allowed
”
to
do
things
or
not
as
she
chose
.
That
's
why
I
'm
so
young
,
’
said
the
old
woman
with
a
fat
laugh
.
‘It
's
because
I
go
with
the
times
.
And
as
for
that
child
Mary
,
I
ca
n't
refuse
her
anything
.
You
see
Alison
and
I
both
wanted
to
marry
her
poor
dear
father
.
He
was
the
most
delightful
creature
that
ever
lived.’
Mary
,
in
her
little
white
frock
,
was
looking
radiant
.
The
morning
papers
had
announced
the
results
of
the
by-election
,
and
Vincent
Hemming
's
name
headed
the
poll
with
a
majority
of
forty-seven
votes
.
In
a
day
or
two
—
perhaps
even
now
—
he
would
be
in
town
;
he
would
have
time
for
her
.
They
would
have
leisure
,
perhaps
,
to
see
a
great
deal
of
each
other
once
more
.
She
had
become
accustomed
by
now
to
a
certain
vagueness
about
the
future
.
But
just
to
know
that
he
was
happy
and
successful
was
enough
for
the
moment
.
‘Why
are
you
looking
so
pretty
to-night
?
’
whispered
Beaufy
to
Mary
,
to
whom
he
had
taken
a
perverse
fancy
because
she
generally
snubbed
him
.
‘I
never
look
pretty
,
’
said
Mary
calmly
.
‘No
?
That
's
true
.
I
've
seen
you
,
’
he
added
with
engaging
candour
,
‘look
positively
ugly
.
And
other
times
,
you
know
,
you
become
radiantly
lovely.’
Meanwhile
Lady
Jane
,
showing
a
good
deal
of
plump
shoulder
and
bland
bosom
,
in
a
gown
of
excruciating
red
,
was
gently
tapping
Mr.
Bosanquet-Barry
with
a
carved
ivory
fan
,
as
he
leaned
over
her
chair
.
‘Tell
me
who
's
here
,
you
shocking
creature
.
You
know
I
ca
n't
see
.
And
what
are
you
young
men
there
for
except
to
tell
us
the
news
?
’
‘Oh
,
yes
.
Everybody
's
here
.
Lots
of
people
have
come
up
to
town
on
purpose
.
No
end
of
smart
people
in
the
stalls
.
And
who
do
you
think
is
down
there
in
the
omnibus
box
?
Lady
Blaythewaite
,
of
all
people
.
C'est
crâne
,
hein
?
Three
days
before
she
has
to
appear
in
the
divorce
court
.
They
say
,
’
he
added
,
dropping
his
voice
so
that
only
Lady
Jane
could
hear
,
‘they
say
it
will
be
a
cause
célèbre
.
She
brings
the
case
,
of
course
,
but
she
wo
n't
get
it
.
They
're
betting
on
it
at
the
clubs.’
‘I
see
she
's
got
that
old
woman
,
what's-her-name
,
who
's
so
very
proper
,
in
the
box
,
’
said
Lady
Jane
,
as
she
surveyed
the
coming
heroine
of
the
divorce
court
exhaustively
with
her
tortoise-shell
lorgnette
.
‘How
clever
,
’
she
continued
in
an
approving
tone
:
‘white
muslin
,
and
not
a
jewel
.
I
was
so
fond
of
her
poor
mother
.
She
was
one
of
the
first
women
who
smoked
—
I
mean
before
people
.
She
was
a
sort
of
Mrs.
Norton
.
Lord
Houghton
used
to
say
she
was
one
of
the
few
women
in
society
that
he
could
ask
to
his
literary
breakfasts
.
Her
daughter
has
n't
inherited
her
wits.’
‘No
,
or
she
would
n't
have
committed
the
fatal
error
of
being
found
out
,
’
murmured
Mr.
Bosanquet-Barry
,
and
then
he
added
,
showing
all
his
dazzling
teeth
in
a
fatuous
smile
:
‘Lady
Blay
's
a
charming
woman
when
she
lets
you
know
her
.
I
assure
you
,
she
's
quite
irresistible.’
‘I
see
all
you
young
men
are
quite
épris
,
’
replied
Lady
Jane
,
in
her
well-bred
,
indifferent
tone
.
‘Do
you
see
much
of
her
?
’
‘One
's
supposed
to
be
able
to
find
her
at
five
.
But
very
often
she
's
out.’
‘Yes
,
’
put
in
Mr.
Flower
,
in
his
waspish
voice
,
‘she
says
it
's
so
effective
to
be
out
occasionally
.
Is
n't
it
malicious
of
her
?
’
‘My
dear
Beaufy
,
Lady
Blaythewaite
is
quite
good-looking
enough
to
do
these
things
.
Who
are
those
curious-looking
persons
in
the
next
box
?
’
‘Are
n't
they
quite
too
delicious
for
words
?
’
cried
that
young
gentleman
,
with
some
animation
.
‘They
're
my
discovery
.
There
's
a
man
—
a
political
man
—
in
the
stalls
who
knows
.
It
's
the
mayor
of
Northborough
,
the
mayoress
of
Northborough
,
and
the
heiress-apparent
.
They
're
as
rich
—
well
,
as
rich
as
Americans
.
Their
name
is
Higgins
.
Are
n't
they
nice
?
I
never
saw
a
provincial
mayor
before
.
I
wonder
if
he
is
red
all
over
,
like
his
face
?
I
'm
sure
he
wears
his
chains
of
office
under
his
clothes
.
Look
at
the
mayoress
'
gown
,
dear
Lady
Jane
.
Do
you
see
,
it
has
a
small
V
at
the
throat
,
and
elbow
sleeves
,
and
you
may
swear
it
's
high
at
the
back
!
And
the
daughter
—
qu'elle
est
fagotée
,
mon
Dieu
,
and
with
diamonds
put
in
all
the
wrong
places
.
It
is
a
relief
to
look
at
Lady
Blay
,
who
's
got
hardly
anything
on
at
all.’
And
so
these
were
the
Higginses
;
Vincent
's
friends
,
whom
he
had
picked
up
in
America
,
and
who
had
got
him
returned
to
parliament
.
Mary
gave
one
swift
,
comprehensive
glance
at
the
daughter
,
taking
in
her
under-bred
face
,
with
its
beady
eyes
and
fretful
mouth
,
her
over-trimmed
clothes
and
her
uneasy
attitude
,
and
remembering
Hemming
's
fastidious
tastes
,
she
decided
,
with
a
little
throb
of
feminine
exultation
,
that
she
had
nothing
to
dread
from
Miss
Violet
Higgins
.
‘Does
anybody
know
what
the
play
is
about
?
’
asked
the
girl
in
a
relieved
voice
,
in
which
there
was
even
a
note
of
happiness
.
‘It
seems
to
me
to
be
rubbish.’
‘Oh
,
I
simply
love
these
old-fashioned
pieces
,
where
all
the
poor
young
men
turn
out
to
be
baronets
,
and
all
the
women
marry
their
first
loves
.
They
're
so
adorably
untrue
to
life
,
do
n't
you
know
?
’opined
Beaufy
.
‘One
wants
that
sort
of
thing
in
a
pessimistic
age
.
Of
course
Realism
and
that
sort
of
thing
amuses
me
,
but
I
do
n't
really
care
for
it.’
‘But
that
's
very
ungrateful
of
you
,
’
said
Alison
,
turning
suddenly
round
.
Dr.
Dunlop
Strange
had
caught
sight
of
Lady
Blaythewaite
in
the
box
opposite
,
and
his
eyes
seemed
riveted
on
her
exquisite
face
.
Somehow
the
fact
annoyed
her
;
Alison
did
not
like
Lady
Blaythewaite
.
The
curtain
drew
up
on
the
second
act
,
revealing
a
rose-clambered
cottage
and
a
sundial
.
The
play
proceeded
after
the
manner
of
love-stories
which
are
enacted
to
lime-light
.
Two
sets
of
lovers
—
one
arch
,
one
sentimental
—
wandered
through
a
wicket-gate
in
rotation
,
though
during
the
scene
between
the
arch
lovers
—
in
which
a
watering-pot
and
some
artificial
geraniums
played
a
prominent
part
—
it
was
noticeable
that
some
of
the
habitual
theatre-goers
began
a
mumbled
conversation
.
It
was
unmistakable
,
however
,
that
the
interest
of
the
dress-circle
was
aroused
when
a
rising
moon
illuminated
the
embrace
of
the
sentimental
lovers
,
during
which
the
ominous
figure
of
an
adventuress
was
seen
hovering
behind
a
hedge
.
The
critics
,
however
,
began
to
yawn
,
and
several
cheery
conversations
were
started
in
private
boxes
,
notably
in
that
of
Lady
Blaythewaite
,
whose
white
shoulders
were
detached
with
startling
distinctness
against
a
phalanx
of
black
coats
.
The
door
of
the
Higgins
's
box
down
below
opened
,
and
there
was
visible
the
figure
of
a
youngish
man
against
the
pale
gold
of
the
corridor
.
Mary
could
not
see
his
face
,
which
was
black
against
the
light
;
but
in
another
instant
the
new-comer
,
after
shaking
hands
all
round
,
had
slipped
into
the
chair
behind
the
younger
lady
,
and
his
face
was
now
illuminated
by
the
glare
of
the
footlights
.
Miss
Higgins
began
to
fan
herself
violently
with
a
jerky
movement
,
and
fidgeted
about
in
her
chair
.
Mary
's
eyes
were
riveted
on
the
face
of
the
new
arrival
.
Just
where
she
sat
he
could
not
see
her
.
It
was
Vincent
Hemming
.
Then
she
turned
her
eyes
away
—
as
if
ashamed
—
and
kept
them
fixed
upon
the
stage
.
The
sentimental
lovers
were
now
swearing
eternal
fidelity
...
.
Were
they
the
real
puppets
,
Mary
wondered
,
or
she
,
and
Vincent
,
and
Miss
Higgins
,
and
the
Blaythewaites
,
each
pulled
this
way
and
that
by
their
passions
,
their
ambitions
,
their
desires
?
Vincent
was
in
town
,
and
she
had
heard
nothing
from
him
!
True
,
she
had
not
had
many
letters
of
late
,
but
then
he
had
been
,
of
course
,
immersed
in
his
election
business
.
She
had
not
expected
to
hear
.
And
yet
,
why
should
he
spend
his
first
night
in
town
with
these
people
?
Vincent
,
too
,
must
have
got
the
box
;
it
was
evidently
his
party
,
for
the
mayor
of
a
provincial
town
,
however
many
times
a
millionaire
,
is
not
on
the
lists
for
first-nights
at
fashionable
theatres
in
London
.
On
the
stage
Mary
was
conscious
that
the
adventuress
was
advancing
to
the
footlights
murmuring
the
words
‘My
husband
!
’
and
that
the
curtain
was
falling
on
the
second
act
.
She
sat
with
her
eyes
fixed
on
her
lap
.
Every
nerve
in
her
body
was
drawn
at
full
tension
.
It
was
a
relief
when
the
canvas
door
opened
,
and
one
or
two
men
came
in
.
She
leaned
back
in
her
chair
,
saying
anything
,
so
as
not
to
have
to
think
.
Beaufy
had
slipped
again
into
the
chair
behind
her
.
‘What
do
you
think
I
heard
about
the
Higgins
heiress
?
’
he
began
.
‘I
take
such
an
interest
in
them
because
,
you
see
,
I
was
the
first
to
discover
them
.
You
see
that
man
down
there
,
sitting
in
her
pocket
?
Well
,
that
's
Hemming
,
the
man
who
's
just
got
in
for
Northborough
.
They
say
he
's
going
to
marry
her.’
‘Is
he
?
’
said
Mary
,
and
she
was
astonished
to
find
how
natural
her
voice
sounded
.
After
all
,
she
told
herself
,
she
knew
how
it
would
be
on
the
day
of
his
return
from
America
.
‘Yes
;
is
n't
it
delicious
?
Why
,
one
might
as
well
be
married
to
the
housemaid
.
But
they
say
he
has
n't
got
a
farthing
,
you
know
,
and
she
'll
have
twelve
thousand
a
year
just
to
start
housekeeping
.
But
the
best
of
it
is
,
I
hear
the
poor
devil
wants
to
get
out
of
it
,
only
his
worship
wo
n't
let
him
off
.
Stands
over
him
in
his
chains
of
office
and
waves
the
municipal
mace
;
says
he
only
got
him
into
the
House
as
a
prospective
son-in-law
.
They
say
she
's
got
a
strong
Lancashire
accent
,
’
he
concluded
in
his
most
malicious
and
triumphant
tone
.
‘Indeed
,
’
said
Mary
,
raising
her
eyelids
,
and
letting
them
drop
again
with
a
tired
gesture
.
Fortunately
no
one
in
the
box
had
heard
but
herself
.
Both
Lady
Jane
and
Alison
were
talking
to
new
arrivals
.
She
made
an
effort
—
an
effort
which
completely
prostrated
her
next
day
—
to
look
smiling
,
calm
,
imperturbable
.
Why
,
the
very
fabric
of
society
was
based
on
that
acquiescent
feminine
smile
.
She
,
like
other
women
before
her
,
must
learn
her
fate
with
the
eyes
of
the
world
fixed
curiously
upon
her
...
.
If
she
could
only
creep
away
somewhere
,
hide
her
face
,
not
see
the
hideous
comedy
going
on
in
the
box
down
there
,
not
have
to
look
at
the
yellow
footlights
,
watch
the
foolish
,
inane
,
unreal
comedy
on
the
stage
.
But
she
could
not
leave
the
theatre
without
making
a
scene
,
having
explanations
.
The
curtain
rose
on
the
last
act
.
‘Vincent
is
going
to
marry
Miss
Higgins
,
’
she
said
to
herself
deliberately
,
as
the
arch
pair
of
lovers
entered
,
quarrelling
,
in
a
pretty
drawing-room
set
.
She
tried
to
realise
this
new
calamity
;
to
understand
what
it
meant
to
her
,
as
the
comic
young
gentleman
on
the
stage
essayed
to
appease
the
arch
young
lady
's
wrath
by
tying
an
errant
shoe-lace
.
Vincent
and
Miss
Higgins
...
.
Vincent
and
Miss
Higgins
:
living
together
,
always
together
;
husband
and
wife
in
all
the
long
,
long
years
to
come
.
—
'
For
better
,
for
worse
,
for
richer
,
for
poorer
,
in
sickness
and
in
health
,
till
death
did
them
part.’
It
was
with
the
blurred
vision
which
accompanies
poignant
mental
anguish
that
Mary
saw
that
the
happiness
of
the
sentimental
lovers
on
the
stage
was
not
to
be
frustrated
,
for
the
adventuress
,
it
would
seem
,
was
a
bigamist
,
and
was
already
married
...
.
Married
!
Why
,
merciful
God
!
Vincent
and
that
girl
in
the
box
down
below
—
they
,
too
,
were
going
to
be
married
—
‘Dear
,
you
look
dreadfully
white
,
’
said
Alison
,
catching
sight
of
Mary
's
face
.
With
a
fixed
,
mechanical
smile
,
Mary
was
thanking
Mr.
Beaufort
Flower
,
who
was
playfully
throwing
a
boa
round
her
shoulders
.
‘I
'm
afraid
you
're
tired
.
The
play
bored
one
horribly
,
did
n't
it
?
And
the
theatre
's
so
hot
—
’
‘I
'm
all
right
,
’
said
Mary
heroically
.
‘
It
's
nothing.’
People
spoke
to
her
as
she
went
downstairs
and
along
the
corridor
,
and
she
answered
them
with
pale
,
mauvish
lips
.
Such
a
charming
,
pretty
piece
,
was
n't
it
?
Quite
an
idyll
,
and
so
wholesome
,
after
this
disgusting
talk
about
heredity
,
and
so
on
...
.
It
was
quite
a
relief
,
they
said
,
to
get
a
thoroughly
English
piece
with
a
happy
ending
.
And
in
the
pushing
crowd
at
the
door
her
lover
almost
brushed
her
elbow
as
he
passed
her
unwittingly
with
the
Lancashire
heiress
.
The
girl
,
Mary
could
see
,
wore
the
triumphant
expression
of
the
underbred
young
woman
who
has
secured
a
desirable
husband
.
Mary
hardly
dared
look
at
Vincent
,
though
every
fibre
in
her
body
yearned
towards
him
;
but
as
he
passed
out
,
with
Miss
Higgins
leaning
heavily
on
his
arm
,
she
had
a
brief
vision
of
a
harassed
,
sheepish
,
and
uneasy
face
.
‘Why
,
he
is
unhappy
!
’
she
thought
,
with
a
pang
.
CHAPTER
XVI
TWO
ULTIMATUMS
IN
the
professional
solemnity
of
the
consulting-room
,
the
large
,
bland
face
of
Dr.
Danby
looked
grave
.
Tapping
his
stethoscope
,
with
which
he
had
just
made
an
examination
of
Mary
,
he
looked
her
straight
in
the
eyes
.
‘The
fact
is
,
my
child
,
you
ought
to
know
the
truth
.
You
will
not
,
believe
me
,
be
able
to
do
the
work
you
are
doing
.
As
a
matter
of
fact
,
you
are
very
,
very
far
from
strong
.
Nothing
dangerous
,
I
admit
,
but
great
deli
—
cacy
,
’
he
added
thoughtfully
,
pronouncing
the
word
‘delicacy’
with
a
certain
unction
,
as
an
attribute
which
applied
mostly
to
charming
young
women
.
‘None
of
the
vital
organs
are
attacked
as
yet
,
’
he
went
on
,
‘but
there
is
a
terrible
want
of
tone
.
If
I
were
asked
to
describe
you
,
I
should
say
you
were
a
bundle
of
nerves
.
Slightly
anæmic
,
too
,
’
continued
the
doctor
,
frowning
.
‘You
live
too
much
in
London
.
There
is
too
much
strain
on
the
nervous
system
.
You
have
,
you
see
,
an
unfortunate
previous
history
.
Your
father
,
you
must
remember
,
was
not
able
to
stand
the
strain
;
your
poor
mother
died
when
she
was
a
mere
girl
.
A
mere
girl
,
’
repeated
the
great
man
,
shaking
his
head
.
‘Well
,
that
,
at
any
rate
,
I
shall
not
be
able
to
accomplish
,
’
said
Mary
drily
.
‘You
know
,
doctor
,
that
I
am
nearly
twenty-eight.’
‘Dear
me
,
dear
me
—
you
do
n't
look
it.’
And
then
he
added
briskly
,
taking
out
a
sheet
of
paper
and
beginning
to
write
a
prescription
,
‘I
should
like
to
have
all
you
young
ladies
living
a
healthy
out-of-door
life
,
happily
married
,
and
with
no
mental
worries
.
There
is
something
wrong
somewhere
,
’
he
muttered
to
himself
,
‘with
our
boasted
civilisation
.
It
's
all
unnatural
.
Not
fit
,
not
fit
for
girls.’
There
was
a
silence
.
Mary
said
nothing
,
but
observed
,
with
much
interest
,
a
sparrow
which
was
conveying
to
a
nest
in
the
drain-pipe
a
crust
of
bread
which
the
servants
had
thrown
out
in
the
yard
.
Since
Vincent
's
letter
—
a
long
,
characteristic
letter
,
speaking
of
new
duties
,
and
obligations
,
of
personal
sacrifices
for
the
cause
which
he
had
so
much
at
heart
,
and
of
his
dread
of
dragging
her
down
‘to
a
life
of
pecuniary
restraints
and
restricted
horizons’
—
she
had
almost
felt
as
if
she
must
give
up
the
fight
.
Her
nerves
were
completely
unstrung
,
but
she
had
never
stopped
working
.
In
work
there
was
at
least
forgetfulness
.
‘Arsenic
,
iron
,
and
strychnine
,
with
something
for
the
nerves
,
’
said
the
doctor
,
thoughtfully
;
‘and
the
Volnay
I
told
you
of
before
.
There
should
be
a
complete
change
of
scene
and
ideas.’
‘I
'll
try
the
tonic
and
the
burgundy
,
please
,
’
said
Mary
,
as
she
rose
to
go
.
‘I
cannot
leave
London
now
;
and
I
do
n't
see
any
prospect
of
doing
so
.
And
—
and
—
it
is
n't
exactly
serious
,
dear
Dr.
Danby
?
’
she
continued
,
looking
him
,
in
her
turn
,
straight
in
the
face
with
her
charming
eyes
.
‘My
dear
child
,
’
he
said
kindly
,
‘life
without
health
and
happiness
is
not
worth
having
.
Let
me
beg
you
to
stop
,
to
take
care
of
yourself
,
to
think
of
others
,
’
he
added
vaguely
.
‘I
wonder
whom
I
've
got
to
think
of
?
’
thought
Mary
,
as
she
went
down
the
step
of
the
Wimpole
Street
house
.
‘Jimmie
,
who
will
probably
marry
before
he
is
one-and-twenty
?
Aunt
Julia
,
at
Bournemouth
,
who
thinks
I
am
given
over
to
the
evil
one
since
I
've
become
a
journalist
?
Vincent
?
’
—
but
here
Mary
pulled
up
her
thoughts
with
a
jerk
.
Yet
the
words
‘life
without
health
and
happiness
,
’
‘very
del-i-cate
,
’
repeated
themselves
in
her
brain
,
as
she
made
her
way
towards
the
Strand
,
where
she
had
an
appointment
with
the
editor
of
Illustrations
.
And
with
this
new
care
pressing
upon
her
,
never
had
the
Strand
seemed
so
dreary
,
so
cheaply
vicious
,
as
to-day
under
the
hurrying
clouds
.
‘Spesh
—
shul
!
—
Globe
piper
—
St.
James
's
Gizett
—
Pall
Mall
,
’
shouted
a
newsboy
in
her
ear
,
at
Charing-cross
;
and
looking
down
she
read
,
in
blue
or
red
letters
,
spattered
and
stained
with
London
mud
,
the
posters
of
the
evening
newspapers
:
—
‘The
Great
Divorce
Case
.
Cross-examination
of
the
Plaintiff
,
Unabridged
Report
.
Ladies
ordered
out
of
Court
.
Sketches
of
the
Co-respondents.’
For
the
Blaythewaite
scandal
hung
,
like
a
pestilence
,
over
England
.
Like
some
foul
miasma
,
it
poisoned
everything
.
It
met
the
eye
,
in
columns
of
close
print
,
at
the
breakfast
table
;
it
formed
the
one
subject
of
conversation
wherever
people
met
.
With
hoarse
laughs
and
brutal
jests
,
it
was
discussed
in
public-houses
and
at
street
corners
;
with
tepid
,
meaning
smiles
and
shrugged
shoulders
in
drawing-rooms
and
clubs
.
And
meanwhile
the
great
tide
of
humanity
swept
on
.
A
dray
had
got
across
the
crowded
street
,
and
a
procession
of
loaded
omnibuses
,
whose
drivers
were
bandying
oaths
and
scathing
cockney
satire
,
drew
up
at
the
curb
.
Outside
Charing
Cross
station
two
girls
in
tawdry
capes
were
quarrelling
and
gesticulating
,
while
a
man
in
a
round
hat
,
who
had
just
arrived
by
train
,
and
who
appeared
to
be
the
cause
of
the
dispute
,
turned
from
them
both
,
hailed
a
hansom
,
and
drove
off
with
a
relieved
air
.
A
small
gaping
crowd
at
once
gathered
round
the
wranglers
on
the
pavement
.
‘Run
'
em
both
in
,
’
said
a
raucous
voice
on
the
fringe
of
the
crowd
;
and
,
indeed
,
a
policeman
's
helmet
was
now
seen
bearing
down
towards
the
group
.
Mary
hurried
on
.
Further
on
there
were
sordid
little
eating-houses
displaying
a
joint
of
raw
meat
,
a
cauliflower
,
and
a
plate
of
oysters
;
and
dark
narrow
passages
—
the
entrance
to
theatres
—
ornamented
with
coloured
posters
of
the
latest
three-act
farce
.
Inexpressibly
dreary
were
the
pictures
which
invited
one
within
:
representations
of
elderly
ladies
in
black
silk
,
falling
backwards
into
hip-baths
:
monster
heads
of
comedians
,
with
flaxen
wigs
and
brick-red
complexions
,
displaying
all
their
teeth
in
a
frightful
grin
;
full-length
posters
of
girls
with
knowing
smiles
and
abnormally
developed
limbs
;
while
further
on
,
outside
a
music-hall
,
was
the
picture
of
a
raffish-looking
dwarf
,
who
was
described
with
engaging
optimism
as
‘screamingly
funny.’
‘Spesh
—
shul
!
Extry
spesh
—
shul
!
The
great
divorce
case
!
Ex-trorinary
evidence
!
Cross-examination
of
Sir
'
Orris
Blaythewaite’
!
shouted
a
small
newsvendor
in
Mary
's
ear
,
as
she
waited
at
Wellington
Street
to
cross
.
And
all
the
while
,
as
she
hurried
along
to
the
office
,
with
this
new
terror
of
broken
health
knocking
at
her
brain
,
she
wondered
what
the
abrupt
summons
could
mean
which
she
had
received
from
the
editor
.
Half
of
the
MSS
.
of
her
novel
was
in
his
hands
.
Could
it
be
possible
that
he
was
going
to
refuse
it
?
With
some
trepidation
,
Mary
gave
her
name
to
her
old
admirer
,
the
small
office
boy
,
whom
she
found
casting
a
supercilious
eye
over
the
current
number
of
the
paper
,
while
he
furtively
sucked
an
acid
drop
.
And
in
due
time
she
found
herself
ushered
into
the
editor
's
private
room
.
Six
months
of
proof-reading
,
of
interviewing
incapable
artists
,
of
the
thousand
worries
of
a
newspaper
,
had
not
made
the
manners
of
the
editor
of
Illustrations
more
gracious
.
‘Good
day
,
Miss
Erle
.
Take
a
chair
.
I
want
to
talk
to
you.’
‘Is
it
anything
,
’
asked
Mary
,
‘about
the
novel
?
’
‘The
fact
is
,
’
said
the
melancholy
man
,
tapping
with
an
irritable
hand
on
a
pile
of
manuscript
near
his
desk
,
which
Mary
recognised
with
some
anxiety
as
her
own
,
‘it
wo
n't
do
at
all
.
It
wo
n't
do
at
all.’
‘It
—
wo
n't
do
?
’
faltered
Mary
.
‘Why
,
I
've
written
it
just
as
you
told
me
.
There
's
a
ball
in
the
first
volume
,
a
parting
in
the
second
—
’
‘Oh
,
that
's
all
right
,
’
interrupted
the
editor
.
‘But
,
my
dear
young
lady
,
’
he
added
,
‘you
've
put
the
most
extraordinary
things
in
this
last
chapter
.
Why
,
there
's
a
young
man
making
love
to
his
friend
's
wife
.
I
ca
n't
print
that
sort
of
thing
in
my
paper
.
The
public
wo
n't
stand
it
.
They
want
thoroughly
healthy
reading.’
‘Do
they
?
’
said
Mary
,
who
could
not
help
remembering
the
columns
of
unedifying
matter
which
had
lain
on
the
breakfast-table
that
morning
,
nor
the
newsboys
vending
the
latest
detail
of
the
great
scandal
,
served
red-hot
at
the
street
corners
.
‘I
thought
,
’
she
continued
quietly
,
‘that
the
public
would
take
anything
—
in
a
newspaper.’
For
a
minute
the
editor
looked
perplexed
.
Then
,
frowning
slightly
,
he
went
on
:
‘Not
in
fiction
—
not
in
fiction
.
Must
be
fit
to
go
into
every
parsonage
in
England
.
Remember
that
you
write
chiefly
for
healthy
English
homes.’
‘But
even
the
people
in
the
country
parsonage
must
occasionally
see
life
as
it
is
—
or
do
they
go
about
with
their
eyes
shut
?
’
ventured
Mary
quietly
.
‘Well
,
we
're
not
going
to
encourage
that
sort
of
thing
,
’
he
said
conclusively
,
getting
up
and
putting
his
mouth
to
the
telephone
.
‘Hullo
!
Richards
!
No.
Yes
,
of
course
.
Not
got
the
portrait
of
Lady
Blaythewaite
?
What
?
Spoiled
?
Take
another
kodak
into
court
,
then
.
Eh
?
Yes
.
See
that
it
's
a
good
likeness
.
All
the
co-respondents
for
this
week
's
issue
.
And
see
that
they
're
touched
up
.
What
?
Yes
,
yes
.
A
couple
of
pages
of
drawings.’
The
editor
sat
down
again
.
Their
eyes
met
.
‘The
fact
is
,
’
he
said
,
looking
rather
foolish
,
‘novels
are
—
er
—
well
—
novels
.
The
British
public
does
n't
expect
them
to
be
like
life
.
And
if
you
take
my
advice
,
Miss
Erle
,
and
cultivate
your
talents
in
the
right
way
,
you
will
be
able
to
make
a
—
a
—
comfortable
income
.
Only
there
must
be
a
thoroughly
breezy
,
healthy
tone.’
‘Oh
,
as
to
breezy
,
’
said
Mary
,
in
a
tired
voice
,
‘I
never
somehow
feel
like
that
.
I
do
n't
know
how
it
is
,
but
I
ca
n't
help
seeing
things
as
they
are
,
and
the
truth
is
so
supremely
attractive.’
‘But
it
is
just
what
the
public
wo
n't
stand
,
’
repeated
the
editor
.
‘Now
take
this
chapter
back
and
reconsider
it
.
This
young
man
,
now
—
he
is
n't
a
principal
character
in
the
story
—
could
n't
you
make
him
her
cousin
—
or
her
brother
?
’
‘Oh
,
anything
you
like
,
’
said
Mary
,
taking
the
manuscript
;
‘but
I
did
like
that
chapter
.
I
took
so
much
trouble
over
it
.
It
was
a
little
bit
of
real
observation.’
‘That
's
right
.
And
if
you
do
n't
mind
my
saying
so
,
there
are
n't
quite
enough
love
scenes
between
the
hero
and
the
heroine
.
The
public
like
love-scenes
,
and
besides
,
they
illustrate
so
well.’
‘Is
there
anything
more
?
’
asked
Mary
,
trying
to
force
the
manuscript
into
her
pocket
.
‘I
should
suggest
a
thoroughly
happy
ending
.
The
public
like
happy
endings
.
The
novelists
are
getting
so
morbid
.
It
's
all
these
French
and
Russian
writers
that
have
done
it
.
It
's
really
difficult
now
to
get
a
thoroughly
breezy
book
with
a
wedding
at
the
end
.
Take
my
advice
and
stick
to
pretty
stories
.
They
're
bound
to
pay
best.’
‘That
's
what
Perry
Jackson
thinks
,
’
said
Mary
to
herself
,
as
she
stepped
out
into
the
windy
Strand
.
‘And
he
certainly
understands
—
he
always
did
understand
—
the
public.’
The
banal
,
the
pretty-pretty
,
the
obvious
!
This
was
what
she
was
to
write
—
if
she
wanted
to
make
any
money
,
to
keep
her
head
above
water
.
And
the
kindly
words
of
the
doctor
reiterated
themselves
in
her
brain
:
‘All
you
young
ladies
ought
to
be
living
a
healthy
,
out-door
life
,
happily
married
,
and
with
no
mental
worries
!
’
And
then
,
with
a
kind
of
obstinate
courage
,
she
thought
of
what
she
should
do
to
get
better
.
She
would
try
and
eat
more
meat
;
she
would
order
some
burgundy
at
the
stores
;
she
would
try
and
get
more
out
in
the
open
air
;
and
there
was
the
tonic
—
the
arsenic
and
strychnine
—
which
sometimes
,
for
a
week
or
two
,
seemed
to
give
her
a
fresh
lease
of
life
.
She
must
take
some
of
that
prescription
to-night
,
for
to-morrow
she
had
to
go
all
the
way
to
the
Whitechapel
Hospital
to
do
a
scene
for
her
book
.
It
would
be
tiring
,
very
tiring
,
but
it
had
all
been
arranged
with
Alison
and
Dr.
Strange
.
The
outlines
of
the
long
narrow
street
were
growing
vague
in
the
twilight
.
The
omnibuses
,
loaded
inside
and
out
,
loomed
in
dark
masses
against
the
pink
western
sky
.
The
aspect
of
the
crowd
had
changed
.
Hardly
any
women
were
to
be
seen
,
and
the
newsboys
,
bawling
their
loudest
,
were
thrusting
their
wares
in
the
faces
of
busy
lawyers
hurrying
from
the
Courts
.
With
the
passing
hours
,
events
,
it
would
seem
,
had
waxed
more
exciting
.
‘Spesh-shul
!
Extry
Spesh-hul
!
Fifth
Edition
!
Sir
'
Orris
Blaythewaite
in
the
box
!
Revoltin
'
details
!
The
great
divorce
case
!
’
shouted
the
newsboys
.
And
beneath
the
cold
,
unheeding
,
scudding
clouds
,
the
world
which
writes
,
and
buys
,
and
sells
the
news
of
the
evening
was
pushing
,
hurrying
,
and
jostling
elbows
up
and
down
the
wind-swept
Strand
.
CHAPTER
XVII
NUMBER
TWENTY-SEVEN
THE
vast
,
mud-coloured
building
loomed
out
of
the
fog
as
the
doctor
's
coachman
drew
up
,
with
a
jerk
,
under
the
portico
.
Against
the
dark
lining
of
the
carriage
the
fine
drawing
of
a
man
's
profile
was
visible
by
the
light
of
a
portable
lamp
.
There
were
irritable
folds
at
the
corners
of
the
mouth
,
a
restless
look
in
the
keen
eyes
,
as
they
travelled
over
the
page
he
was
reading
.
Dr.
Dunlop
Strange
only
folded
up
the
medical
paper
he
had
been
studying
as
he
went
up
the
steps
of
the
Whitechapel
Hospital
.
It
was
his
habit
to
allow
himself
no
time
for
vagrant
thoughts
,
so
that
even
to-day
,
when
he
was
to
meet
Alison
and
take
her
over
the
hospital
along
with
Mary
Erle
,
even
to-day
his
mind
ran
on
professional
matters
.
Inside
the
large
bare
hall
,
where
a
marble
statue
of
the
Queen
loomed
chillily
out
of
the
vague
half-light
,
Alison
and
Mary
,
the
latter
carrying
a
leather
note-book
,
were
already
awaiting
him
.
Dunlop
Strange
looked
at
Alison
,
taking
in
every
detail
of
her
radiant
personality
with
his
swift
professional
glance
.
In
the
after
years
he
always
preferred
to
think
of
her
as
he
saw
her
that
instant
,
standing
by
the
white
marble
statue
of
the
Queen
,
for
never
again
did
she
look
at
him
with
the
same
clear
,
cordial
eyes
.
The
doctor
and
Alison
met
as
people
meet
who
are
more
than
interested
in
each
other
.
For
some
time
past
she
had
known
that
he
was
devoted
to
her
,
and
the
girl
had
almost
made
up
her
mind
,
if
he
asked
her
,
she
would
accept
him
.
It
was
a
busy
,
sensible
life
,
that
of
a
doctor
's
wife
,
she
told
herself
;
and
,
after
all
,
in
her
world
,
one
had
to
marry
some
day
or
other
.
One
could
n't
permit
one
's
self
the
luxury
of
being
an
old
maid
,
unless
one
had
an
income
of
over
£
5
,
000
a
year
.
But
there
was
no
particular
hurry
,
she
said
,
when
well-meaning
friends
bothered
her
about
it
.
They
were
both
of
a
certain
age
.
They
both
had
their
own
occupations
,
their
own
hobbies
.
The
doctor
never
took
his
eyes
from
her
face
.
To
have
this
woman
for
his
wife
would
be
the
crowning
act
of
a
brilliantly
successful
career
.
He
only
hesitated
to
speak
until
he
had
received
the
baronetcy
which
was
in
store
for
him
.
Not
that
Alison
herself
would
care
;
she
had
none
of
the
usual
small
feminine
ambitions
;
but
the
doctor
was
quite
aware
that
it
would
influence
Lady
Jane
,
who
had
made
up
her
mind
that
Alison
,
when
she
married
,
should
only
make
,
if
she
could
help
it
,
what
she
called
a
‘sensible
match.’
They
went
up
a
stone
staircase
,
to
which
a
somewhat
false
air
of
cheerfulness
was
imparted
by
a
grass-green
painted
dado
,
surmounted
by
a
bright
lavender-toned
wall
,
passing
a
large
window
giving
out
on
a
grimy
back
garden
,
a
garden
whose
sodden
grass
plot
was
closed
in
by
high
,
brown
brick
walls
,
and
over
which
hung
a
heavy
,
fog-laden
sky
,
etched
with
sooty
branches
.
On
the
first
landing
there
was
a
closed
door
,
and
outside
,
an
empty
stretcher
,
beside
which
two
hospital
porters
were
waiting
.
Suddenly
the
door
was
pushed
ajar
,
and
for
an
instant
there
was
a
vision
of
anxious
,
inquisitive
faces
,
lit
up
by
a
glare
of
gas
;
of
a
nurse
's
back
,
bending
forward
,
and
of
a
surgeon
's
face
,
blowing
spray
on
to
something
that
was
invisible
.
Over
all
an
intense
silence
,
broken
only
by
the
hoarse
whispers
of
the
porters
with
the
stretcher
,
wondering
how
long
they
would
have
to
wait
.
‘There
do
n't
seem
to
be
many
students
in
there
,
’
said
Alison
in
her
practical
voice
.
‘No
,
they
do
n't
crowd
in
here
like
they
do
in
the
other
hospitals
.
We
've
so
many
operations
,
you
see
.
Two
or
three
every
afternoon
all
the
year
round.’
Upstairs
,
in
the
‘Charlotte
Ward
,
’
the
fifty
red-quilted
beds
effaced
themselves
in
the
gloom
of
the
winter
afternoon
.
There
was
a
vague
odour
of
medicine
,
overpowered
by
that
of
patent
disinfectants
.
All
the
beds
were
alike
;
there
were
blue-and-white
checked
curtains
and
vallance
,
a
rope
by
which
the
patient
could
pull
herself
into
a
sitting
posture
,
a
cupboard
with
food
and
medicines
inside
,
and
a
cardboard
overhead
,
on
which
the
number
,
age
,
disease
,
and
diet
of
the
patient
were
all
duly
inscribed
.
Yes
,
the
little
beds
,
thought
Mary
,
were
curiously
alike
,
and
yet
on
every
mattress
a
different
form
of
pain
was
being
endured
.
‘Congestion
of
the
lungs
,
peritonitis
,
’
said
the
doctor
in
a
brief
undertone
,
as
the
two
girls
passed
down
the
room
.
A
screen
was
placed
round
one
of
the
narrow
bedsteads
.
‘What
is
that
for
?
’
whispered
Mary
.
‘Hopeless
case
,
’
answered
the
doctor
gravely
.
‘It
is
probably
all
over
by
now
.
We
do
that
to
spare
the
other
patients
.
Death
scenes
have
a
bad
moral
effect.’
‘And
—
and
how
long
do
they
stay
there
after
it
's
all
over
?
’
‘Oh
,
they
are
removed
to
the
mortuary
at
once.’
At
intervals
down
the
long
room
,
with
its
shining
white
boards
,
blazed
large
fires
,
lighting
up
,
here
and
there
,
the
bland
,
unemotional
features
of
a
nurse
,
under
her
smooth
hair
and
white
cap
—
the
sexless
features
of
a
woman
who
has
learnt
to
witness
suffering
without
a
sign
.
Yet
they
brightened
the
room
,
these
girls
,
in
their
lilac
cotton
gowns
and
ample
aprons
,
with
their
practical
faces
,
and
their
strong
,
helpful
hands
,
suggesting
an
out-of-doors
where
people
were
healthy
and
happy
,
a
place
where
no
one
was
agonising
.
On
hearing
that
Dr.
Strange
was
taking
visitors
round
,
Sister
Charlotte
,
the
superintendent
of
the
ward
,
emerged
from
her
private
room
and
hurried
forward
.
The
Sister
was
a
long-nosed
woman
of
thirty-five
,
with
small
,
bright
eyes
and
a
cordial
manner
.
The
doctor
introduced
the
three
ladies
to
each
other
,
and
Sister
Charlotte
talked
,
moving
forward
all
the
time
,
with
a
professional
look
on
her
bright
face
.
They
stopped
,
now
,
at
every
bed
.
Mary
asked
questions
in
an
undertone
,
and
Dunlop
Strange
,
whose
hospital
manner
was
proverbial
,
addressed
each
sick
woman
in
the
same
tone
he
would
have
employed
to
a
duchess
.
His
way
with
women
was
one
of
the
things
for
which
he
was
justly
famous
.
And
in
this
manner
the
little
procession
moved
somewhat
slowly
along
.
They
had
come
to
the
end
of
one
line
of
beds
,
and
were
now
about
to
turn
up
the
other
side
of
the
room
.
Sister
Charlotte
stopped
.
‘We
have
a
new
patient
there
,
doctor
,
’
she
said
briskly
.
‘Number
twenty-seven
.
A
hopeless
case
of
rapid
consumption
.
Poor
creature
,
’
she
whispered
to
Alison
,
‘she
was
in
a
terrible
state
when
she
came
.
I
ca
n't
tell
you
.
They
brought
her
in
from
one
of
the
common
lodging-houses
.
It
seems
she
tried
to
commit
suicide
last
summer
,
but
the
police
fished
her
out
of
the
canal
,
and
managed
to
pump
back
the
life
into
her
.
That
was
the
beginning
of
her
lung-trouble
.
Since
then
she
must
have
sunk
very
low.’
All
four
stepped
up
to
the
foot
of
the
narrow
bed
.
The
patient
's
back
was
turned
to
them
.
She
was
only
a
shapeless
lump
,
breathing
heavily
under
the
red
coverlet
.
‘Do
n't
let
's
disturb
her
,
’
said
Alison
,
in
a
faintly
disgusted
tone
.
‘
Why
had
n't
they
let
the
wretched
woman
drown
in
that
muddy
canal
water
,
before
she
could
be
sucked
down
in
the
awful
whirlpool
of
vice
?
’
But
the
irony
of
actualities
has
little
to
do
with
any
mere
human
volition
.
There
are
things
written
by
the
great
penman
we
call
destiny
,
which
no
man
's
remorse
can
erase
and
no
woman
's
tears
wash
out
.
Number
Twenty-seven
tossed
over
and
lay
on
her
back
,
and
the
course
of
two
lives
was
altered
.
Number
Twenty-seven
lay
on
her
back
,
her
vicious
face
,
with
its
hard
mouth
and
the
brownish-pink
flush
on
each
cheek-bone
,
looking
sharply
emaciated
against
the
whiteness
of
the
pillow
.
Her
fringe
,
reaching
nearly
to
her
eye-brows
,
was
faded
and
lank
;
the
mouth
,
with
its
singularly
hard
lines
,
was
swollen
and
livid
.
‘Oh
!
Alison
,
’
whispered
Mary
,
‘I
remember
her
,
although
she
's
terribly
changed
.
I
once
saw
her
,
waiting
,
poor
soul
,
in
the
Regent
's
Park
,
for
someone
—
’
Dr.
Dunlop
Strange
bent
forward
with
his
searching
,
professional
glance
,
for
he
was
famous
at
diagnosis
.
He
put
his
hand
on
her
wrist
,
and
their
eyes
met
.
Good
God
!
Could
it
be
?
His
heart
absolutely
stood
still
.
Was
this
horrible
wreck
the
girl
he
had
taken
such
a
fancy
to
only
half
a
dozen
years
ago
—
the
girl
who
had
been
so
fond
of
him
,
but
who
had
grown
so
bad-tempered
and
suspicious
,
that
he
had
been
obliged
to
break
off
all
relations
with
her
?
And
,
merciful
God
!
could
it
be
that
this
woman
—
the
unsightly
corpse
,
as
it
were
,
of
his
dead
pleasure
—
was
going
to
speak
;
was
about
to
spoil
the
happiness
of
his
whole
future
life
?
In
all
his
forty-five
years
Dr.
Dunlop
Strange
had
never
known
such
an
odious
moment
.
But
Number
Twenty-seven
only
laughed
—
an
unmirthful
,
coarse
,
and
empty
laugh
.
‘Lord
,
are
you
here
?
’
she
muttered
,
staring
the
doctor
straight
in
the
eyes
.
Then
she
tossed
over
.
It
was
a
curious
scene
.
The
doctor
drew
a
long
breath
;
he
had
grown
visibly
paler
before
he
spoke
.
The
nurse
stared
.
Alison
's
eyes
were
fixed
on
the
bed-quilt
.
Mary
looked
perplexed
.
‘Poor
creature
!
She
mistakes
me
for
some
one
else
,
’
he
said
at
last
,
in
a
voice
which
he
tried
hard
to
make
natural
.
‘They
often
do
just
at
the
last
,
’
he
added
in
a
lower
tone
.
And
then
,
taking
down
the
card
hung
over
the
bed
,
on
which
the
patient
's
age
,
disease
,
and
diet
,
as
well
as
the
physician
's
name
in
charge
of
the
case
were
written
,
he
continued
in
his
sympathetic
voice
—
‘Quite
right
;
perfectly
right
.
Dr.
Brown
,
I
see
,
has
ordered
everything
that
could
possibly
be
of
use
.
Sister
,
look
after
this
case
specially.’
Alison
roused
herself
,
bent
over
the
patient
,
saying
something
kind
,
and
passed
on
in
a
kind
of
dream
.
Not
an
incident
of
the
strange
scene
had
escaped
her
.
She
felt
a
curious
kind
of
nausea
;
perhaps
it
was
the
air
of
the
ward
.
It
sounded
far
off
,
the
chat
and
the
talk
round
the
other
beds
,
as
they
passed
up
the
ward
,
and
she
was
conscious
only
of
an
irresistible
desire
to
go
back
and
speak
to
that
poor
outcast
on
the
hospital
mattress
.
They
passed
to
another
girl
—
the
battered
leavings
of
the
vice
of
a
great
city
—
and
further
on
a
sallow
,
bright-eyed
young
woman
sitting
up
in
bed
,
whom
,
Sister
Charlotte
whispered
,
they
must
make
haste
to
cure
and
discharge
,
as
in
a
month
or
two
she
would
become
a
mother
.
‘She
will
become
a
mother
,
’
thought
Alison
,
‘the
mother
,
perhaps
,
of
a
baby-girl
,
destined
,
before
she
is
born
,
to
become
like
one
of
these
!
’
The
face
of
Number
Twenty-seven
became
an
obtrusion
.
She
must
go
back
and
hear
her
story
;
perhaps
she
could
help
her
,
save
her
,
send
her
out
to
a
farm
she
knew
of
at
the
Cape
,
where
even
such
as
she
might
begin
a
new
life
.
People
often
got
well
at
the
Cape
when
they
were
far
gone
in
consumption
.
The
doctor
and
Mary
were
a
little
way
in
front
as
Alison
detained
the
Sister
for
a
moment
.
‘I
should
like
,
Sister
Charlotte
,
’
she
said
,
trying
to
make
her
voice
sound
indifferent
,
‘to
come
and
see
that
poor
woman
—
Number
Twenty-seven
—
to-morrow
.
I
have
taken
an
interest
in
her
case
.
Tell
me
,
where
does
she
come
from
—
what
sort
of
a
girl
was
she
before
—
?
’
‘Oh
,
she
's
not
a
Londoner
.
Came
from
Sussex
five
or
six
years
ago.’
‘I
might
,
’
said
Alison
,
‘be
able
to
do
something
for
her
.
I
will
talk
it
all
over
with
you
if
you
will
let
me
come
to-morrow.’
‘You
must
allow
me
to
drive
you
both
home
,
’
said
Dr.
Dunlop
Strange
,
in
his
decided
way
,
as
they
stepped
out
into
the
grey
mud
,
the
orange
gas-lights
,
and
the
shuffling
crowd
of
the
Whitechapel
Road
.
But
there
was
not
much
conversation
as
the
carriage
rolled
westward
through
the
deepening
gloom
.
Mary
and
the
doctor
talked
spasmodically
.
Alison
hardly
spoke
.
CHAPTER
XVIII
DUNLOP
STRANGE
MAKES
A
MISTAKE
IT
was
three
minutes
to
eight
.
Round
the
marble
mantelpiece
in
the
great
empty-looking
drawing-room
in
Portman
Square
,
a
small
circle
of
guests
were
gathered
.
Lady
Jane
was
talking
.
She
had
been
a
wit
and
a
beauty
in
her
youth
,
and
,
with
the
garrulity
of
old
age
,
she
liked
to
talk
of
her
triumphs
;
of
her
flirtation
with
Bulwer
Lytton
,
whose
waistcoats
and
whose
romances
were
just
then
turning
the
heads
of
all
the
women
;
of
the
occasion
when
she
snatched
a
celebrity
from
Lady
Palmerston
,
and
above
all
,
of
d'Orsay
,
who
,
up
to
the
last
,
had
continued
to
scintillate
at
her
dinner-parties
.
To-night
she
was
discussing
a
famous
statesman
's
cautious
affairs
of
the
heart
with
a
little
old
man
,
whose
parchment
face
had
wrinkled
and
whose
hair
had
whitened
in
the
service
of
his
country
at
various
minor
European
courts
.
‘I
always
heard
,
you
know
,
that
she
was
formally
engaged
to
him
when
her
husband
was
still
alive
.
He
went
there
every
day
.
The
thing
was
accepted.’
The
wrinkled
old
man
had
a
senile
chuckle
,
which
not
infrequently
turned
into
a
cough
.
‘He
,
he
,
my
dear
lady
.
I
know
it
for
a
fact
.
And
then
there
was
the
other
woman
.
The
old
lady
that
used
to
make
appointments
with
him
,
by
the
great
fountain
at
the
Crystal
Palace
—
’
‘And
who
left
him
all
her
money.’
‘How
quite
too
delicious
.
Early
Victorian
scandal
,
’
whispered
Beaufy
Flower
to
Lady
Blaythewaite
,
who
,
in
her
rôle
of
pretty
woman
,
was
standing
in
her
favourite
swaggering
attitude
on
the
hearth-rug
,
a
radiant
vision
of
pink
and
white
flesh
.
‘Do
n't
you
want
to
hear
it
?
’
‘I
do
n't
know
whom
they
're
talking
about
,
’
she
said
in
her
deliberate
drawl
.
‘Does
one
ever
meet
these
people
anywhere
—
at
dinner
,
or
at
Sandown
?
’
‘Oh
,
they
're
all
dead
,
’
he
sniggered
,
patting
the
Parma
violets
in
his
coat
.
‘Then
why
did
n't
you
say
so
before
,
you
little
idiot
?
’
announced
her
ladyship
in
her
rather
high
voice
.
She
was
vaguely
afraid
of
the
boy
's
malicious
tongue
,
but
she
tolerated
him
about
her
because
she
was
more
afraid
of
the
spiteful
things
he
would
say
if
she
did
n't
.
‘But
it
's
deliciously
amusing
,
Lady
Jane
's
scandal
,
is
n't
it
?
’
he
continued
with
a
little
wriggle
which
disposed
of
the
pretty
woman
's
snub
.
‘Can
you
picture
an
intrigue
in
side-spring
boots
,
the
coup
de
foudre
from
a
spoon-bonnet
and
a
burnous
,
and
white
,
blue-white
stockings
?
’
‘No
,
I
ca
n't
.
They
must
have
looked
frumps
,
’
replied
the
lady
,
with
a
complacent
survey
of
her
Paris
frock
and
her
somewhat
obvious
charms
in
the
huge
gilt
mirror
.
It
was
two
months
now
since
the
great
divorce
case
;
it
was
considered
dull
to
talk
about
it
any
more
.
The
whole
affair
had
remained
nebulous
.
Neither
side
had
been
able
to
obtain
a
verdict
,
but
most
people
took
the
lady
's
part
.
Sir
Horace
was
old
,
ugly
,
and
vicious
;
she
was
young
,
pretty
,
and
in
a
notably
tolerant
set
.
The
husband
had
gone
away
in
his
steam
yacht
to
investigate
the
South
Sea
Islands
,
and
meanwhile
Lady
Blaythewaite
made
a
point
of
being
seen
everywhere
,
especially
at
houses
which
she
would
have
voted
‘frumpish’
a
year
ago
.
The
guests
were
arriving
quickly
now
.
Mr.
Bosanquet-Barry
,
very
boyish-looking
and
important
,
with
something
to
tell
Lady
Jane
which
had
to
be
told
in
a
distant
corner
,
while
his
hostess
tapped
him
several
times
playfully
with
a
small
carved
ivory
fan
;
the
Irish
Viceroy
,
over
on
important
business
;
a
well-known
beauty
without
her
husband
,
who
was
annoyed
when
she
found
she
was
not
the
last
,
as
she
had
wished
to
make
an
effective
entry
;
Mary
,
looking
somewhat
pale
and
worn
;
a
young
A.D.C.
from
India
,
with
a
crooked
line
of
sunburn
across
his
forehead
,
and
a
naïve
enthusiasm
for
the
two
London
beauties
;
and
the
Attorney-General
,
famous
for
his
good
stories
.
‘It
is
my
own
child
,
’
complained
Lady
Jane
to
the
Viceroy
,
who
had
more
than
once
advanced
to
offer
his
arm
,
under
the
impression
that
dinner
had
been
announced
,
‘who
keeps
me
waiting
for
my
dinner
.
Would
you
believe
that
that
girl
of
mine
spends
half
her
time
in
a
workman
's
flat
,
or
poking
about
in
those
horrible
smelling
streets
in
Whitechapel
?
’
‘Young
ladies
,
’
said
the
Viceroy
,
frowning
,
for
he
was
very
hungry
,
‘have
curious
ideas
of
amusing
themselves
nowadays.’
‘In
our
time
balls
and
parties
were
supposed
to
suffice
.
But
I
ca
n't
get
my
child
to
take
a
proper
interest
in
society
,
’
complained
Lady
Jane
.
‘I
tell
her
it
's
absurd
.
Why
,
it
's
such
a
refuge
for
a
woman
in
her
old
age
.
But
it
's
always
the
same
story
.
When
she
is
young
and
pretty
society
cares
for
the
woman
,
but
when
she
is
old
and
—
well
—
repaired
,
it
is
,
of
course
,
the
woman
who
cares
for
society.’
Just
then
Alison
slipped
in
quietly
.
‘Please
forgive
me
,
mother
,
for
being
late
,
’
she
said
,
in
a
tired
little
voice
,
as
she
kissed
Lady
Jane
on
each
plump
cheek
.
‘I
'm
dead
tired
.
I
only
got
home
from
the
hospital
at
seven.’
‘Well
,
you
're
not
the
last
,
’
said
her
mother
.
‘Our
dear
Dunlop
Strange
has
n't
come
yet
,
and
he
's
to
take
you
down.’
‘Dr
.
Strange
?
’
said
Alison
,
her
face
growing
white
.
‘I
thought
he
was
in
Brussels
?
It
was
in
the
papers
that
he
had
been
sent
for
from
Brussels.’
‘So
he
was
;
but
he
'll
be
back
for
my
dinner
to-night
.
I
know
,
too
,
he
's
got
an
important
consultation
to-morrow
.
But
we
ca
n't
wait
,
’
said
Lady
Jane
,
ringing
the
bell
.
The
long
procession
began
to
move
slowly
to
the
dining-room
.
Alison
went
down
alone
.
She
ate
her
soup
in
silence
,
thankful
for
the
empty
chair
beside
her
.
Oh
,
if
only
something
would
keep
him
away
to-night
.
She
could
not
bear
it
.
She
was
tired
,
her
head
ached
,
her
throat
felt
dry
;
she
must
have
caught
a
chill
.
A
fine
drizzle
had
been
falling
when
she
left
the
Whitechapel
Hospital
,
and
nowhere
was
there
a
cab
to
be
seen
.
The
long
journey
home
in
an
omnibus
,
an
omnibus
for
which
she
had
waited
a
long
time
at
a
corner
,
had
thoroughly
tired
and
chilled
her
.
The
conventional
voices
of
the
men
,
the
foolish
,
fixed
smiles
of
the
women
all
around
,
struck
her
to-night
as
more
than
usually
puerile
.
How
endless
seemed
the
long
procession
of
fishes
and
meats
,
of
hocks
and
clarets
!
—
what
a
foolish
superabundance
of
food
!
At
one
moment
she
made
up
her
mind
she
would
get
up
and
slip
out
of
the
room
.
The
commonplace
voice
of
Lady
Blaythewaite
,
making
the
somewhat
bald
statement
that
she
intended
to
start
for
Monte
Carlo
on
the
28th
of
the
following
month
,
bored
and
irritated
her
.
On
her
right
hand
two
people
were
passionately
discussing
the
way
in
which
red
mullet
should
be
cooked
.
The
lady
,
it
would
seem
,
was
all
for
papilottes
,
whereas
the
gentleman
could
not
endure
them
without
being
stuffed
and
served
with
port-wine
sauce
.
It
was
the
only
moment
of
the
dinner
at
which
the
conversation
on
her
right
hand
had
approached
any
sort
of
enthusiasm
.
The
wrinkled
diplomat
,
who
sat
on
her
mother
's
left
hand
,
was
resuscitating
some
details
of
Lola
Montez
in
'
48
for
her
special
delectation
.
The
Viceroy
was
solemnly
consuming
his
dinner
.
Through
the
tall
flower-stands
Alison
could
hear
Mr.
Bosanquet-Barry
,
under
the
soothing
influence
of
Lady
Jane
's
excellent
champagne
,
airily
inciting
Mary
to
write
art
criticisms
for
The
Comet
;
a
fact
which
Alison
was
certain
he
would
forget
the
very
next
morning
.
The
odour
of
hot-house
flowers
,
the
smell
of
the
meats
,
the
very
bouquet
of
the
wines
,
seemed
to
overpower
her
.
She
had
made
up
her
mind
to
go
,
when
the
chair
next
to
her
was
pulled
out
,
and
Dunlop
Strange
sat
down
beside
her
.
It
was
too
late
now
.
She
could
not
leave
the
room
without
all
London
knowing
that
—
‘I
'm
so
sorry
;
the
boat
was
late
getting
into
Dover
,
and
I
've
only
just
got
here
,
’
said
Strange
.
‘Then
I
'll
let
you
eat
your
dinner
,
doctor
,
’
said
Alison
,
making
a
civil
effort
,
‘you
must
be
tired
and
hungry.’
‘No
,
no
fish
or
soup
.
I
'll
have
what
's
going
,
’
said
the
doctor
to
the
obsequious
butler
,
who
regarded
him
already
as
the
son-in-law
of
the
house
.
‘You
're
a
wicked
man
,
’
cried
Lady
Jane
down
the
table
.
‘Why
did
n't
you
come
before
?
My
cook
wo
n't
forgive
you
,
even
if
I
do.’
And
Dunlop
Strange
,
as
he
drank
off
a
glass
of
champagne
and
looked
round
the
table
,
felt
tenderly
disposed
to
all
the
world
.
He
felt
,
rather
than
saw
,
the
beautiful
profile
at
his
side
.
He
was
always
intensely
conscious
of
Alison
's
presence
;
he
knew
when
she
was
in
a
room
even
before
he
had
seen
her
.
No
woman
that
he
had
ever
met
had
ever
attracted
him
like
this
one
.
And
in
gracefully
artificial
moments
like
these
Dunlop
Strange
was
happy
.
The
factitious
and
fleeting
emotions
which
he
experienced
perienced
in
society
delighted
him
—
emotions
heightened
by
a
rare
vintage
,
made
memorable
by
an
elaborate
dish
,
accentuated
by
a
fine
feminine
smile
.
The
half
chaffing
,
half
caressing
tone
in
which
his
patients
addressed
him
(
for
Dunlop
Strange
was
popular
with
great
ladies
)
;
the
rôle
,
three-parts
confessor
and
one-fourth
adorer
,
which
he
played
with
these
beautiful
victims
of
the
