erwards the nurse surprised them all by coming into the room.
She carried a writing-case. Edwin introduced her to Auntie Hamps and
Clara. Clara blushed and became mute. Auntie Hamps adopted a tone of
excessive deference, of which the refrain was "Nurse will know best."
Nurse seemed disinclined to be professional. Explaining that as she was
not able to sleep she thought she might as well get up, she took a seat
near the fire and addressed herself to Maggie. She was a tall and
radiant woman of about thirty. Her aristocratic southern accent proved
that she did not belong to the Five Towns, and to Maggie, in excuse for
certain questions as to the district, she said that she had only been at
Pirehill a few weeks. Her demeanour was extraordinarily cheerful.
Auntie Hamps remarked aside to Clara what a good thing it was that Nurse
was so cheerful; but in reality she considered such cheerfulness
exaggerated in a sick-room, and not quite nice. The nurse asked about
the posts, and said she had a letter to write and would write it there
if she could have pen and ink. Auntie Hamps, telling her eagerly about
the posts, thought that these professional nurses certainly did make
themselves at home in a house. The nurse's accent intimidated all of
them.

"Well, nurse, I suppose we mustn't tire our patient," said Auntie Hamps
at last, after Edwin had brought ink and paper.

Edwin, conscious of the glory of a gold watch and chain, and conscious
also of freedom from future personal service on his father, preceded
Auntie Hamps and Clara to the landing, and Nurse herself sped them from
the room, in her quality of mistress of the room. And when she and
Maggie and Darius were alone together she went to the bedside and spoke
softly to her patient. She was so neat and bright and white and
striped, and so perfect in every detail, that she might have been a
model taken straight from a shop-window. Her figure illuminated the
dusk. An incredible luxury for the little boy from the Bastille! But
she was one of the many wonderful things he had earned.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE BANQUET.

It was with a conscience uneasy that Edwin shut the front door one night
a month later, and issued out into Trafalgar Road. Since the arrival of
Nurse Shaw, Darius had not risen from his bed, and the household had
come to accept him as bed-ridden and the nurse as a permanency. The
sick-room was the centre of the house, and Maggie and