ell me. Lord, what a boy 'e was! Swept you
off your feet, like. 'E wasn't the only one. I'd got a way with me, I
suppose. Anyhow, the men seemed to think so. There was always a few
'anging about. Like flies round a 'oney-pot, Mother used to say." She
giggled. "But 'e wouldn't take No for an answer. And I didn't want to
give it 'im, neither. I was gone on 'im, right enough. No use saying I
wasn't."

"You must be glad you didn't say No," suggested Joan.

"Yes," she answered, "'E's got on. I always think of that little poem,
'Lord Burleigh,'" she continued; "whenever I get worrying about myself.
Ever read it?"

"Yes," answered Joan. "He was a landscape painter, wasn't he?"

"That's the one," said Mrs. Phillips. "I little thought I was letting
myself in for being the wife of a big pot when Bob Phillips came along in
'is miner's jacket."

"You'll soon get used to it," Joan told her. "The great thing is not to
be afraid of one's fate, whatever it is; but just to do one's best." It
was rather like talking to a child.

"You're the right sort to put 'eart into a body. I'm glad I came up,"
said Mrs. Phillips. "I get a bit down in the mouth sometimes when 'e
goes off into one of 'is brown studies, and I don't seem to know what
'e's thinking about. But it don't last long. I was always one of the
light-'earted ones."

They discussed life on two thousand a year; the problems it would
present; and Mrs. Phillips became more cheerful. Joan laid herself out
to be friendly. She hoped to establish an influence over Mrs. Phillips
that should be for the poor lady's good; and, as she felt instinctively,
for poor Phillips's also. It was not an unpleasing face. Underneath the
paint, it was kind and womanly. Joan was sure he would like it better
clean. A few months' attention to diet would make a decent figure of her
and improve her wind. Joan watched her spreading the butter a quarter of
an inch thick upon her toast and restrained with difficulty the impulse
to take it away from her. And her clothes! Joan had seen guys carried
through the streets on the fifth of November that were less obtrusive.

She remembered, as she was taking her leave, what she had come for: which
was to invite Joan to dinner on the following Friday.

"It's just a homely affair," she explained. She had recovered her form
and was now quite the lady again. "Two other guests beside yourself: a
Mr. Airlie--I am sure you will like him.