to her
the common prejudices of women. And yet, were it affectation, then the
habit must be so inextricably blended with her nature as to have become
in practice a genuine motive in the mind's working. Madeline would
speculate on the difference between one of her "culture" in the
circumstances and the woman who is a slave of tradition; and a moment
after she would say something so profoundly pathetic that it brought
tears to her companion's eyes.

Mrs. Travis never spoke of her personal affairs; Madeline could supply
no food for the curiosity of her mother and sister when they questioned
her about the long private conversations. The lodger received no
visitors, and seldom a letter. In the morning she went out for an hour,
generally towards the heath; occasionally she was from home until late
at night. About the quality of the attendance given her she was wholly
indifferent; in spite of frequent inconveniences, she made her weekly
payments without a word of dissatisfaction. She had a few
eccentricities of behaviour which the Denyers found it difficult to
reconcile with the refinement of her ordinary conduct. Once or twice,
when the servant went into her sitting-room the first thing in the
morning, she was surprised to find Mrs. Travis lying asleep on the
couch, evidently just as she had come home the previous night, except
that her bonnet was removed. It had happened, too, that when some one
came and knocked at her door during the day, she vouchsafed no answer,
and yet made the sound of moving about, as if to show that she did not
choose to be disturbed, for whatever reason.

The household went its regular way. Mrs. Denyer sat in her wonted idle
dignity, or scolded the hard-driven maid-of-all-work, or quarrelled
fiercely with Barbara. Barbara was sullen, insolent, rebellious against
fate, by turns. Up in the still room lay poor Madeline, seldom visited
by either of the two save when it was necessary. All knew that the
position of things had no security; before long there must come a
crisis worse than any the family had yet experienced. Unless, indeed,
that one hope which remained to them could be realized.

One afternoon at the end of July, mother and daughter were sitting over
their tea, lamenting the necessity which kept them in London when the
eternal fitness of things demanded that they should be preparing for
travel. They heard a vehicle draw up before the house, and Barbara,
making cautious espial from the windo