oval since I
came, and I overheard one or two comments in the hall. "Bother these
removals. They make such a mess!"

"Those tiresome vans block the way for my pram!" Not one word of
interest in the removal itself! Not one word of inquiry as to the
newcomers. So far as interest or sympathy went, each little
shut-in-dwelling is as isolated as a lighthouse. For the past few weeks
I have been haunted by a vision of myself beating an ignominious
retreat, after having altogether failed in my mission. To console
myself I began a second course of Red Cross training, to revive what I
had learnt two years before. Perhaps some day one of the tenants will
be ill, or have an accident, which will give me a chance. Watching the
stream of children coming in and out of the "Mansions," I almost found
it in my heart to wish that one of them would tumble down and break, not
his crown, but just some minor, innocent, little bone, so that his
mother could behold how promptly and efficiently I could render first
aid!

A month passed by--four long, lonely weeks. Not a line from Charmion.
Not a line from Delphine. Not a line from the big, blustering lover who
had vowed never, no, never, to give up the pursuit. With one and all,
out of sight was apparently out of mind, and I am the sort of woman who
needs to be remembered and appreciated, and who feels reduced to the
lowest ebb when nobody takes any notice. I wondered what Charmion was
doing, I wondered how Delphine was faring, I wondered--did he really
care so much? Would he go on caring? Suppose I had cared, too? Then
another long, lonely day came to an end, and I crawled into bed and
cried. Whatever my virtues may be, I am afraid I am not strong-minded!

But at the end of a month--hurrah! I started full tilt into a new and
engrossing profession, a profession which I may really claim to have
invented, and which offers a wide field for idle women. It is healthy,
moreover, and in its pursuit its followers can be of immense service to
their overtaxed sisters. The vocation is called "Pram-Pushing for
Penurious Parents," and it consists simply of taking charge of Tommy, or
Bobby, or Baby for his morning or afternoon promenade, and thereby
setting his mother free to take a much-needed rest!

The way it began was natural enough. I smiled at a pretty baby in the
hall, and the baby smiled back at me, and threw a ball at my feet. I
picked it up, and gave it back to a worried-loo