man of his age to be compelled to guard against all sorts of
little things that other people think nothing of, mustn't it?'

'Yes, it must be trying,' Mrs. Ormonde replied, quietly.

Mr. Emerson was a young gentleman of leisurely habits and precarious
income. Mrs. Ormonde suspected, and with reason, that he nurtured a
feeble constitution at the expense of his wife's labour; he was seldom
at home, and the persons interested in Mrs. Emerson had a difficulty in
making his nearer acquaintance.

'And I can't think there's another man in the world who would bear it
so uncomplainingly. But you know,' she added, laughing again, 'that I'm
very proud of my husband. I always make you smile at me, Mrs. Ormonde.
But now, I am so very, very sorry, but I'm obliged to go. I manage to
catch a 'bus just at the top of the street; if I missed it, I should be
half an hour late, and these are very particular people. Oh, I've such
a laughable story to tell you about them, but it must wait till
to-morrow, Harold says I tell it so well; he's sure I could write a
novel if I tried. I think I will try some day; I believe people make a
great deal of money out of novels, don't they, Mrs. Ormonde?'

'I have heard of one or two who tried to, but didn't.'

'I do hope the poor girl will soon be well enough to come. I'll get the
room thoroughly in order to-night.'

They left the house together. Mrs. Emerson ran in the direction of the
omnibus she wished to catch; the other shortly found a vehicle, and
drove back again to Bank Street, Caledonian Road.

Thyrza still lay in the same condition. In a little more than half an
hour came the trained nurse of Dr. Lambe's sending, and forthwith the
sick-room was got into a more tolerable condition, Mrs. Ormonde
procuring whatever the nurse desired. Much private talk passed
downstairs between Mrs. Gandle and 'Lizabeth, who were greatly
astonished at the fuss made over the girl they had supposed friendless.

'Now let this be a lesson to you, 'Lizabeth.' said the good woman,
several times. 'It ain't often as you'll lose by doin' a bit o'
kindness, and the chance always is as it'll be paid back to you more
than you'd never think. Any one can see as this Mrs. Ormonde's a real
lady, and when it comes to settlin' up, you'll see if she doesn't know
how to behave _like_ a lady.'

Mrs. Ormonde took a room at a private hotel near King's Cross, whither
her travelling bag was brought from Victoria. She avoided the par