that makes me
curse my luck," he remarked.

"And that?"

"Can't you guess?" he asked earnestly.

Mavis did not try; she was already aware of the fascination she
possessed for the invalid.

For the rest of the time they were together, Mavis could get nothing
out of Harold; he was depressed and absent-minded when spoken to.
Mavis, of set purpose, did her utmost to take Harold out of himself.

"Thank you," he said, as she was going.

"What for?"

"Wasting your time on me and helping me to forget."

"Forget what?"

"Never mind," he said, as he wheeled himself away.

When Mavis got back to Mrs Budd's, she found a bustle of preparation
afoot. Mrs Budd was running up and downstairs, carrying clean linen
with all her wonted energy; whilst Hannah, her sour-faced assistant,
perspired about the house with dustpan and brushes.

"Expecting a new lodger?" asked Mavis.

"It's my daughter, Mrs Perkins; she's telegraphed to say she's coming
down from Kensington for a few days."

"She'll be a help."

Mrs Budd's face fell as she said:

"Well, miss, she comes from Kensington, and she has a baby."

"Is she bringing that too?"

"And her nurse," declared Mrs Budd, not without a touch of pride.

When Mrs Perkins arrived, she was wearing a picture hat, decorated with
white ostrich feathers, a soiled fawn dust-coat, and high-heeled patent
leather shoes. She brought with her innumerable flimsy parcels
(causing, by comparison, a collapsible Japanese basket to look
substantially built), and a gaily-dressed baby carried by a London
slut, whose face had been polished with soap and water for the occasion.

After the dust-cloak had settled with the driver, it advanced
self-consciously to the steps leading to the front door, the while it
called to the London slut:

"Come along, nurse, and be careful of baby."

Mavis, who saw and heard this from the window of her sitting-room,
noticed that Mrs Perkins greeted her mother, who was waiting at the
door, with some condescension. When the last flimsy parcel had been
taken within, Mrs Budd brought in Mrs Perkins and the baby to introduce
them to Mavis. Mrs Perkins sat down and assumed a manner of superfine
gentility, while she talked with a Cockney accent. Her mother remained
standing. The dust-cloak lived in Kensington, it informed Mavis, "which
was so convenient for the West End: it was only an hour's 'bus ride
from town."

"Less than that," said Mavis to the dust-cloak.

"I h