old her how he was beset
by countless perplexities, and that directly he saw his way clear he
would do as she wished: in the meantime, she was to trust him as
implicitly as before.

Mavis sighed as she finished the letter; she then became lost in
troubled thought, during which she was uncertain whether to laugh for
joy or sorrow. She laughed for joy, perhaps because her mind, as once
before when similarly confronted, had chosen the easier way of
self-preservation, an instinct specially insistent in one of Mavis's
years. She laughed for very happiness and persuaded herself that she
was indeed a lucky girl to be loved so devotedly.

Although the colour soon went out of the blue sky of her joy-world, and
its trees and flowers lacked much of their one-time freshness, she was
not a little grateful for her short experience of its delights. It
helped her to bear the slights and disappointments of the following
days, of which she had no inconsiderable share.

As the year grew older, it became increasingly necessary for Mavis to
discover a place where she might stay during, and for a while after,
her confinement. Mrs Scatchard had told her from the first, that
however much she might be disposed to let Mavis remain in the house for
this event, Mr Scatchard strongly objected, at his age, to the
inconvenience of a baby under the same roof. Mavis filled many weary
hours in dragging herself up and down front-door steps in the quest for
accommodation; but she spent her strength in vain. Directly landladies
learned of the uses to which Mavis would put the room she wished to
engage, they became resentful, and sullenly told her that they could
not accommodate her. Little as Mavis was disposed to find harbourage
for herself and little one in the unhomely places she inspected, she
was hurt by the refusals encountered. It seemed to her that the act of
gravely imperilling life in order to confer life was a situation which
demanded loving care and devoted attention, necessities she lacked: the
refusal of blowsy landladies to entertain her application hurt her more
than the other indignities that she had, so far, been compelled to
endure. One Sunday afternoon Mrs Scatchard brought up the People, in
the advertising columns of which was a list of nursing homes. Mavis
eagerly scanned the many particulars set forth, till she decided that
"Nurse G.," who lived at New Cross, made the most seductive offer. This
person advertised a comfortable home