review of the years between 1901 and 1905, many of
these sweet remembrances are being taken from Vivie's brain as she
lies on a hard bed in 1913, musing over the past days when, despite
occasional frights and anxieties, she was transcendently happy. Oh
"Sorrow's Crown of Sorrow, the remembering happier days!" She
recalled the articles she used to write from the Common Room or
Library of the Inn; how well they were received and paid for by the
editors of daily and weekly journals; what a lark they were, when
for instance she would raise a debate in the _Saturday Review_:
"Should Women be admitted to the Bar?" Or an appeal in the _Daily
News_ to do away with the Disabilities of Women. How poor
Stansfield, before he died, said he had never met any young fellow
with a tenderer heart for women, and advised him to marry whilst he
still had youth and fire. She remembered David's social success at
the great houses in the West End. How he might have gone out into
Society and shone more, much more, only he had to consider prudence
and expense; the curious women who fell in love with him, and whom
he had gently, tactfully to keep at arm's length. She remembered the
eager discussions in the Temple Debating Society, or at the "Moots"
of Gray's Inn, her successes there as an orator and a close
reasoner; how boy students formed ardent friendships for her and
prophesied her future success in Parliament, would have her promise
to take them into the Cabinet which David was to form when an
electorate swept him into power and sent the antiquated old rotters
of that day into the limbo of deserved occlusion.

She saw and heard once more the amused delight of Honoria Armstrong
over her success, and the latent jealousy of the uxorious Colonel
Armstrong if she came too often to see Honoria in Sloane Street: And
she remembered--Oh God! _How_ she remembered--the close association
in those three priceless years with her "godfather" Michael
Rossiter; Rossiter who shaped her mind--it would never take a
different turn--who was patient with her stupidity and petulance; an
elder brother, a robust yet tactful chaffer; a banisher of too much
sensibility, a constant encouragement to effort and success.
Rossiter, she knew, with her woman's instinct, was innocently in
love with her, but believed all the time he was satisfying his
craving for a son to train, a disciple who might succeed him: for he
still believed that David when he had been called to the B