and her
mother pass upstairs, both silent. Mumford, too well aware that yet
another disturbance had come upon his unhappy household, affected to
read, and it was only when the door of Louise's room had closed that
Emmeline spoke to him.

'Mrs. Higgins will breakfast by herself to-morrow,' she said
severely. 'She may perhaps go before lunch; but in any case we shall
not sit down at table with her again.'

'All right,' Mumford replied, studiously refraining from any hint of
curiosity.

So, next morning, their breakfast was served in the library. Mrs.
Higgins came down at the usual hour, found the dining-room at her
disposal, and ate with customary appetite, alone. Had Emmeline's
experience lain among the more vigorously vulgar of her sex she
would have marvelled at Mrs. Higgins's silence and general
self-restraint during these last hours. Louise's mother might,
without transgressing the probabilities of the situation, have made
this a memorable morning indeed. She confined herself to a rather
frequent ringing of the bedroom bell. Her requests of the servants
became orders, such as she would have given in a hotel or
lodging-house, but no distinctly offensive word escaped her. And
this was almost entirely due to Louise's influence for the girl
impressed upon her mother that 'to make a row' would be the sure and
certain way of proving that Mrs. Mumford was justified in claiming
social superiority over her guests.

The doctor, easily perceiving how matters stood, made no difficulty
about the patient's removal in a closed carriage, and, with exercise
of all obvious precautions, she might travel as soon as she liked.
Anticipating this, Mrs. Higgins had already packed all the luggage,
and Louise, as well as it could be managed, had been clad for the
journey.

'I suppose you'll go and order the cab yourself?' she said to her
mother, when they were alone again.

'Yes, I must, on account of making a bargain about the charge. A
nice expense you've been to us, Louise. That man ought to pay every
penny.'

'I'll tell him you say so, and no doubt he will.'

They wrangled about this whilst Mrs. Higgins was dressing to go out.
As soon as her mother had left the house Louise stole downstairs and
to the door of the drawing-room, which was half open. Emmeline, her
back turned, stood before the fireplace, as if considering some new
plan of decoration; she did not hear the girl's light step.
Whitewashers and paperhangers had done