stooped
over Dora.

'Take it away,' said the Doctor. 'I think the child will do, thanks to
you, Mrs. Delville. I should have come too late, but, I assure you' he
was addressing himself to Mrs. Delville 'I had not the faintest reason
to expect this. The membrane must have grown like a mushroom. Will one
of you help me, please?'

He had reason for the last sentence. Mrs. Hauksbee had thrown herself
into Mrs. Delville's arms, where she was weeping bitterly, and Mrs. Bent
was unpicturesquely mixed up with both, while from the tangle came the
sound of many sobs and much promiscuous kissing.

'Good gracious! I've spoilt all your beautiful roses!' said Mrs.
Hauksbee, lifting her head from the lump of crushed gum and calico
atrocities on Mrs. Delville's shoulder and hurrying to the Doctor.

Mrs. Delville picked up her shawl, and slouched out of the room, mopping
her eyes with the glove that she had not put on.

'I always said she was more than a woman,' sobbed Mrs. Hauksbee
hysterically, 'and that proves it!'

Six weeks later Mrs. Bent and Dora had returned to the hotel. Mrs.
Hauksbee had come out of the Valley of Humiliation, had ceased to
reproach herself for her collapse in an hour of need, and was even
beginning to direct the affairs of the world as before.

'So nobody died, and everything went off as it should, and I kissed The
Dowd, Polly. I feel so old. Does it show in my face?'

'Kisses don't as a rule, do they? Of course you know what the result of
The Dowd's providential arrival has been.'

'They ought to build her a statue only no sculptor dare copy those
skirts.'

'Ah!' said Mrs. Mallowe quietly. 'She has found another reward. The
Dancing Master has been smirking through Simla, giving every one to
understand that she came because of her undying love for him for him to
save his child, and all Simla naturally believes this.'

'But Mrs. Bent--'

'Mrs. Bent believes it more than any one else. She won't speak to The
Dowd now. Isn't The Dancing Master an angel?'

Mrs. Hauksbee lifted up her voice and raged till bed-time. The doors of
the two rooms stood open.

'Polly,' said a voice from the darkness, 'what did that
American-heiress-globe-trotter girl say last season when she was tipped
out of her 'rickshaw turning a corner? Some absurd adjective that made
the man who picked her up explode.'

"'Paltry,"' said Mrs. Mallowe. 'Through her nose like this "Ha-ow
pahltry!"'

'Exactly,' said the voice. 'Ha-o