her brief life, and the way of it was thus.

II

Nina Malpas was born amid the embers of one of those fiery conjugal
dramas which occur with romantic frequency in the provincial towns of
the northern Midlands, where industrial conditions are such as to foster
an independent spirit among women of the lower class generally, and
where by long tradition 'character' is allowed to exploit itself more
freely than in the southern parts of our island. Lemuel Malpas was a
dashing young commercial traveller, with what is known as 'an agreeable
address,' in Bursley, one of the Five Towns, Staffordshire. On the
strength of his dash he wooed and married the daughter of an
hotel-keeper in the neighbouring town of Hanbridge. Six months after the
wedding--in other words, at the most dangerous period of the connubial
career--Mrs. Malpas's father died, and Mrs. Malpas became the absolute
mistress of eight thousand pounds. Lemuel[1] had carefully foreseen this
windfall, and wished to use the money in enterprises of the earthenware
trade. Mrs. Malpas, pretty and vivacious, with a self-conceit hardened
by the adulation of saloon-bars, very decidedly thought otherwise. Her
motto was, 'What's yours is mine, but what's mine's my own.' The
difference was accentuated. Long mutual resistances were followed by
reconciliations, which grew more and more transitory, and at length both
recognised that the union, not founded on genuine affection, had been a
mistake.

[1] This name is pronounced with the accent on the first syllable in
the Five Towns.

'Keep your d----d brass!' Lemuel exclaimed one morning, and he went off
on a journey and forgot to come back. A curious letter dated from
Liverpool wished his wife happiness, and informed her that, since she
was well provided for, he had no scruples about leaving her. Mrs. Malpas
was startled at first, but she soon perceived that what Lemuel had done
was exactly what the brilliant and enterprising Lemuel might have been
expected to do. She jerked up her doll's head, and ejaculated, 'So much
the better!'

A few weeks later she sold the furniture and took rooms in Scarborough,
where, amid pleasurable surroundings, she determined to lead the joyous
life of a grass-widow, free of all cares. Then, to her astonishment and
disgust, Nina was born. She had not bargained for Nina. She found
herself in the tiresome position of a mother whose explanations of her
child lack plausibility. One lodging-hous