come back? The maid's never come back?"

"Of course not. You do so misunderstand her--Mrs. Armine."

Isaacson said nothing. He felt that a stroke of insincerity was wanted
here, but something that seemed outside of his will forbade him to give
it.

"That is what has caused all this," continued Hartley. "I shouldn't
really have objected to a consultation so much, if it had come about
naturally. But no medical man--you spoke very seriously of the case just
now."

"I think very seriously of it."

"So do I, of course."

Doctor Hartley pursed his lips.

"Of course. I saw from the first it was no trifle."

Isaacson said nothing.

"I say, I saw that from the first."

"I'm not surprised."

There was a pause in which the elder doctor felt as if he saw the
younger's uneasiness growing.

"You'll forgive me for saying it, Doctor Isaacson, but--but you don't
understand women," said Hartley, at last. "You don't know how to take
them."

"Perhaps not," Isaacson said, with an apparent simplicity that sounded
like humility.

Doctor Hartley looked more at his ease. Some of his cool self-importance
returned.

"No," he said. "Really! And I must say that--you'll forgive me?"

"Certainly."

"--that it has always seemed to me as if, in our walk of life, that was
half the battle."

"Knowing how to take women?"

"Exactly."

"Perhaps you're right." He looked at the young man as if with
admiration. "Yes, I dare say you are right."

Doctor Hartley brightened.

"I'm glad you think so. Now, a woman like Mrs. Armine--"

The mention of the name recalled him to anxiety. "One moment!" he almost
whispered. He went lightly away and in a moment as lightly returned.

"It's all right! She'll sleep for some hours, probably. Now, a woman
like Mrs. Armine, a beautiful, celebrated woman, wants a certain amount
of humouring. And you don't humour her. See?"

"I expect you know."

Isaacson did not tell of that sheet of glass through which Mrs. Armine
and he saw each other too plainly.

"She's a woman with any amount of heart, any amount. I've proved that."
He paused, looked sentimental, and continued, "Proved it up to the hilt.
But she's a little bit capricious. She wants to be taken the right way.
I can do anything with her."

He touched his rose-coloured tie, and pulled up one of his rose-coloured
socks.

"And the husband?" Isaacson asked, with a detached manner. "D'you find
him difficult?"

"Between ourselves, very!"