St. John Deloraine, though there was a stanchness in that lady's
character which made her patronage not precarious.

"There were some nice girls at it," answered Margaret, without
committing herself.

Rochefoucauld declares that there are excellent marriages, but no such
thing as a delightful marriage. Perhaps school-girls may admit, as an
abstract truth, that good schools exist; but few would allow that any
place of education is "nice."

"It is really getting quite late," Barton observed, reluctantly. He
liked to watch the girl, whose beauty, made wan by illness, received
just a touch of becoming red from the glow of the fire. He liked to talk
to her; in fact, this was his most interesting patient by far. It
would be miserably black and dark in his lodgings, he was aware; and
non-paying patients would be importunate in proportion to their poverty.
The poor are often the most exacting of hypochondriacs. Margaret
noticed his reluctance to go contending with a sense of what he owed to
propriety.

"I am sure you must want tea; but I don't like to ring. It is so short
a time since I wore an apron and a cap and the rest of it myself at _The
Bunhouse_, that I am afraid to ask the servants to do anything for me.
They must dislike me; it is very natural."

"It is not natural at all," said Barton, with conviction; "perfectly
monstrous, on the other hand." This little compliment eclipsed the
effect of fire-light on the girl's face. "Suppose I ring," he added,
"and then you can say, when Mary says 'Did you ring, miss?' 'No, I
didn't ring; but as you _are_ here, Mary, would you mind bringing tea?'"

"I don't know if that would be quite honest," said Margaret, doubtfully.

"A pious fraud--a drawing-room comedy," said Barton; "have we rehearsed
it enough?"

Then he touched the bell, and the little piece of private theatricals
was played out, though one of the artists had some difficulty (as
amateurs often have) in subduing an inclination to giggle.

"Now, this is quite perfect," said Barton, when he had been accommodated
with a large piece of plum-cake. "This is the very kind of cake which we
specially prohibit our patients to touch; and so near dinner-time, too!
There should be a new proverb, 'Physician, diet thyself.' You see, we
don't all live on a very thin slice of cold bacon and a piece of dry
toast."

"Mrs. St John Deloraine has never taken up that kind of life," said
Margaret. "She tries a good many new things," B