he best thing for the gentleman in question
by no means, however, equally followed, and Sherringham's final
conviction was that it would never do for him to act the part of that
hypothetic personage. He asked for no removal and no extension of leave,
and he proved to himself how well he knew what he was about by never
addressing a line, during his absence, to the Hotel de la Garonne. He
would simply go straight, inflicting as little injury on Peter
Sherringham as on any one else. He remained away to the last hour of his
privilege and continued to act lucidly in having nothing to do with the
mother and daughter for several days after his return to Paris.

It was when this discipline came to an end one afternoon after a week
had passed that he felt most the force of the reference we have just
made to Mrs. Rooth's private calculations. He found her at home, alone,
writing a letter under the lamp, and as soon as he came in she cried out
that he was the very person to whom the letter was addressed. She could
bear it no longer; she had permitted herself to reproach him with his
terrible silence--to ask why he had quite forsaken them. It was an
illustration of the way in which her visitor had come to regard her that
he put rather less than more faith into this description of the crumpled
papers lying on the table. He was not even sure he quite believed Miriam
to have just gone out. He told her mother how busy he had been all the
while he was away and how much time above all he had had to give in
London to seeing on her daughter's behalf the people connected with the
theatres.

"Ah if you pity me tell me you've got her an engagement!" Mrs. Rooth
cried while she clasped her hands.

"I took a great deal of trouble; I wrote ever so many notes, sought
introductions, talked with people--such impossible people some of them.
In short I knocked at every door, I went into the question
exhaustively." And he enumerated the things he had done, reported on
some of the knowledge he had gathered. The difficulties were immense,
and even with the influence he could command, such as it was, there was
very little to be achieved in face of them. Still he had gained ground:
two or three approachable fellows, men with inferior theatres, had
listened to him better than the others, and there was one in particular
whom he had a hope he really might have interested. From him he had
extracted benevolent assurances: this person would see Miriam, would