e told him.

'Well,' he said, 'I'm afraid it's very serious. I've never heard of
anyone doing such a thing before.... Of course I've known of people who
have left all their money to charities after their death, when they
didn't want it; but it couldn't ever occur to a normal, healthy man to
do it in his lifetime.'

'But what shall I do, doctor?' Mrs Clinton was almost in hysterics.

'Well, Mrs Clinton, d'you know the clergyman of the parish?'

'I know Mr Evans, the curate, very well; he's a very nice gentleman.'

'Perhaps you could get him to have a talk with your husband. The fact
is, it's a sort of religious mania he's got, and perhaps a clergyman
could talk him out of it. Anyhow, it's worth trying.'

Mrs Clinton straightway went to Mr Evans's rooms, explained to him the
case, and settled that on the following day he should come and see what
he could do with her husband.

X

In expectation of the curate's visit, Mrs Clinton tidied the house and
adorned herself. It has been said that she was a woman of taste, and so
she was. The mantelpiece and looking glass were artistically draped with
green muslin, and this she proceeded to arrange, tying and carefully
forming the yellow satin ribbon with which it was relieved. The chairs
were covered with cretonne which might have come from the Tottenham
Court Road, and these she placed in positions of careless and artistic
confusion, smoothing down the antimacassars which were now her pride, as
the silk petticoat from which she had manufactured them had been once
her glory. For the flower-pots she made fresh coverings of red tissue
paper, re-arranged the ornaments gracefully scattered about on little
Japanese tables; then, after pausing a moment to admire her work and see
that nothing had been left undone, she went upstairs to perform her own
toilet.... In less than half an hour she reappeared, holding herself in
a dignified posture, with her head slightly turned to one side and her
hands meekly folded in front of her, stately and collected as Juno, a
goddess in black satin. Her dress was very elegant; it might have
typified her own life, for in its original state of virgin whiteness it
had been her wedding garment; then it was dyed purple, and might have
betokened a sense of change and coming responsibilities; lastly it was
black, to signify the burden of a family, and the seriousness of life.
No one had realised so intensely as Mrs Clinton the truth of the poet's
word