thing, and had spent her spare time in
packing up and saying goodbye to her few friends. Her chief difficulty
was with her dear Jill, as she knew how many London landladies objected
to having dogs in lodgings. At last, she arranged for Mrs Trivett to
look after her pet till such time as she could be sent for. Mavis had
offered the farmer's wife a shilling or two a week for Jill's keep, but
her kind friend would not hear of any such arrangement being made. Then
had followed Mavis' goodbye to her dog, a parting which had greatly
distressed her. Jill had seemed to divine that something was afoot, for
her eyes showed a deep, pleading look when Mavis had clasped her in her
arms and covered her black face with kisses. She thought of her now as
she sat in the waiting room; tears welled to her eyes. With a sigh she
realised that she must set about looking for a lodging. She left the
waiting room in order to renew the old familiar quest. Mavis walked
into the depressing ugliness of Eastbourne Terrace, at the most dismal
hour of that most dismal of all days, the London Sunday in winter. The
street lamps seemed to call attention to the rawness of the evening
air. The roads, save for a few hurrying, recently released servants,
were deserted; every house was lit up--all factors that oppressed Mavis
with a sense of unspeakable loneliness. She became overwhelmed with
self-consciousness; she believed that every passer-by, who glanced at
her, could read her condition in her face; she feared that her secret
was known to a curious, resentful world. Mavis felt heartsick, till,
with something of an effort, she remembered that this, and all she had
to endure in the comparatively near future, should be and were
sacrifices upon the shrine of the loved one. She had walked some
distance along Praed Street, and was now in the wilderness of
pretentious, stucco-faced mansions, which lie between Paddington and
the north side of Hyde Park. She knew it was useless to seek for
lodgings here, so pressed on, hoping to arrive at a humbler
neighbourhood, where she would be more likely to get what she wanted.
As she walked, the front doors of the big houses would now and again
open, when she was much surprised at the vulgar appearance of many of
those who came out. It seemed to her as if the district in which she
found herself was largely tenanted by well-to-do, but self-made people.
After walking for many minutes, she reached the Bayswater Road, which
just