've done it often enough for myself. No, that's the
wrong side of the cloth. I'll put these things in order, whilst you go
for the rest."

Barbara looked at Mrs. Travis with secret disdain. The girl's nature
was plebeian; a little arrogance would have constrained her to respect,
however she might have seemed to resent it. This good-natured
indifference made her feel that her preparations were thrown away. She
would have preferred to see herself as a martyr.

When dinner was over and the table being cleared, Mrs. Travis spoke of
Madeline.

"Does she sleep well at night?"

"Never till very late," replied Barbara.

"Does she like to be read to?"

"Oh yes--reading of certain kinds. I often read Italian poetry to her."

Mrs. Travis had not now to learn for the first time of the family's
superior attainments; it had been Mrs. Denyer's care to impress upon
her that they were no ordinary letters of lodgings. Indeed, said Mrs.
Denyer, they were rather _depaysees_' here in England; they had so long
been accustomed to the larger intellectual atmosphere of Continental
centres. "The poor girls pine for Italy; they have always adored Italy.
My eldest daughter is far more Italian than English."

"Well, I don't read Italian," said Mrs. Travis to Barbara, "but if
English would do, I should really like to sit with her for an hour
sometimes. I never sleep myself if I go to bed before midnight. Do you
think she would care for my company?"

"I am sure she would be grateful to you," answered Barbara, who felt
that she might now exhibit a little politeness.

"Then please ask her if I may come to-night."

This request was readily granted, and at about half-past nine Mrs.
Travis went into the sick-chamber, taking in her hand a volume of
Browning. Madeline had not yet seen the lodger; she returned her
greeting in a murmur, and examined her with the steady eyes of one whom
great suffering has delivered from all petty embarrassments. Her face
was not so calm as when Barbara came to speak to her in the afternoon;
lines of pain showed themselves on her forehead, and her thin lips were
compressed.

"It's very good of you to come," she said, when Mrs. Travis had taken a
seat by the bed. "But please don't read anything to-night. I don't feel
that I could take any interest. It is so sometimes."

"Naturally enough. But do you feel able to talk?"

"Yes; I had rather talk. Can you tell me something quite new and
different from what I'm ac