she assented, rather listlessly. So Peter hinted
to Peggy, who had a cheering presence, that Rhoda would be glad to see
her more often, and Peggy made what time she could to come round. Their
circle of friends was limited; they chiefly consisted of the inhabitants
of fifty-one, and a few relatives of Rhoda's, who amused and pleased
Peter but vexed Rhoda by being common.

"But I like them," said Peter.

"You like to see me put to shame, I suppose," said Rhoda, with tears in
her eyes. "As if it was _my_ fault that my parents came of common people.
I've cried myself sick over it sometimes, when I was younger, and now I
just want to forget it."

Peter said no more. It was one of the sides of Rhoda with which he felt
he had no connexion; it was best let alone, as Peter always let alone the
things he could not like. But he was sorry she felt like that, for her
nice, common, friendly relations might have been company for her.

Peter sometimes brought friends home from his office; Peter could not
have been in an office without collecting friends, having the social
instinct strongly developed. But Rhoda didn't much care about seeing
his fellow-clerks; they hadn't, she was sure, great minds, and they made
silly jokes.

Another person who came to see Peter sometimes was Rodney. Ever since the
Margerisons' abrupt fall into ignominy, Rodney had cultivated Peter's
acquaintance. Peter perceived that he had at last slipped into the ranks
of those unfortunates who were qualified for Rodney's regard; it was
enough for that, Urquhart had long since told him, to be cut by society
or to produce a yesterday's handkerchief. Peter, driven from the faces of
the rich, found Rodney waiting to receive him cheerfully among the ranks
of the poor. Rodney was a much occupied person; but when he found time
from his other pursuits he walked up from his Westminster slum to Holborn
and visited 9 Greville Street. He hadn't known quite what to make of
Peter's marriage; though when he got to know Rhoda a little he began to
understand rather more. She, being very manifestly among the Have-Nots,
and a small, weak, and pitiable thing, also entered in a manner into the
circle of his tolerance. He was gentle with her always, though not
expansive. She was a little in awe of the gaunt young man, with his
strange eyes that seemed to see so much further than anyone else's. She
pronounced him "queer."

"I suppose he's very clever," she said to Peter.

"Yes," P