od. But for all that we, who have looked at both faces, know
that when they turn round we shall see on the shoulders of the one
youth, inexperience, frankness, and expectation of things to come; on
those of the other a head that keeps all the mere physical freshness
of the twenties, if not quite the bloom of the teens, but--expressed
Heaven knows how!--experience, reserve, and retrospect on things that
have been once and are not, and that we have no right to assume to be
any concern of ours. Equally true of all faces of forty, do we
understand you to say? Well, we don't know about that. It was all very
strong in this face.

We can look again, when they turn round. But they don't; for number
twelve thousand and odd has come to a standstill, and its energumenon
has come down off its box, and is "fiddlin' at something on the
'orse's 'ed." So cook says, evidently not impressed with that cab. The
doctor looks out and confers; then gets out and comes back towards the
house. The girl and her mother walk to meet him.

"Never saw such a four-wheeler in my life! The harness is tied up with
string, and the rein's broken. The idiot says if he had a stout bit of
whipcord, he could make it square." No sooner have the words passed
the doctor's lips than Miss Sally is off on a whipcord quest.

"I wish the child wouldn't always be in such a hurry," says her
mother. "Now she won't know where to get it."

She calls after her ineffectually. The doctor suggests that he shall
follow with instructions. Yes, suppose he does? There is precisely the
thing wanted in the left-hand drawer of the table in the hall--the
drawer the handle comes off. This seems unpromising, but the doctor
goes, and transmission of messages ensues, heard within the house.

Left alone, Mrs. Nightingale, the elder Rosalind, seems reflective.
"A funny thing, too!" she says aloud to herself. She is thinking,
clearly, of how this man in the cab, who can't give any account of
himself, once knew a Rosalind Nightingale.

Probably the handle has come off the drawer, for they are a long time
over that string. Curiosity has time to work, and has so much effect
that the lady seems to determine that, after all, she would like to
see the man. Now that the cab is so far from the door, even if she
spoke to him, she would not stand committed to anything. It is all
settled, arranged, ratified, that he shall go to the police-station,
or the infirmary, "or somewhere."

When the str