n a professional subject (he had just been called to the
Bar), Mrs. Jacks declared that nothing could interest her more. If he
ventured a jest, she smiled with surpassing sweetness, and was all but
moved to laugh. They, at all events, spent a most agreeable evening.

Not so Mrs. Hannaford, who, just before dinner, had received a letter,
which at once she destroyed. The missive ran thus:

"DEAR MRS. HANNAFORD--I am distressed to hear that you suffer so in
health. Consult your brother; you will find that the only thing to do
you good will be a complete change of climate and of habits. You know
how often I have urged this; if you had listened to me, you would by
now have been both healthy and happy--yes, happy. Is it too late? Don't
you value your life? And don't you care at all for the happiness of
mine? Meet me to-morrow, I beg, at the Museum, about eleven o'clock,
and let us talk it all over once more. Do be sensible; don't wreck your
life out of respect for social superstitions. The thing once over, who
thinks the worse of you? Not a living creature for whom you need care.
You have suffered for years; put an end to it; the remedy is in your
hands. Ever yours,

D.O."

CHAPTER XVI

A few days after her return, Irene left home in the morning to make an
unceremonious call. She was driven to Great Portland Street and
alighted before a shop, which bore the number of the house she sought.
Having found the private entrance--a door that stood wide open--and
after ringing once or twice without drawing anyone's attention, she
began to ascend the uncarpeted stairs. At that moment there came down a
young woman humming an air; a cheery-faced, solidly-built damsel,
dressed with attention to broad effect in colours which were then--or
recently had been--known as "aesthetic." With some diffidence, for the
encounter was not of a kind common in her experience, Irene asked this
person for a direction to the rooms occupied by Miss Hannaford.

"Oh, she's my chum," was the genial reply. "Top floor, front. You'll
find her there."

With thanks the visitor passed on, but had not climbed half a dozen
steps when the clear-sounding voice caused her to stop.

"Beg your pardon and all that kind of thing, but would you mind telling
her that Tomkins is huffy? I forgot to mention it before I came out.
Thanks, awfully."

Puzzled, if not disconcerted, Miss Derwent reached the top floor and
knocked. A voice she recognised bade her enter.