Miss Baddeley was attired in black, wore a thick veil, and trembled a good deal.  Miss Crofton, whose dress was a combination of untoward but decisive hues, and whose hat was enormous and flamboyant, appeared to be the other young lady’s confidante, and conducted the business of the interview.

‘My dear friend, Miss Baddeley,’ she began, when Miss Baddeley took her hand, and held it, as if for protection and sympathy.  ‘My dear friend,’ repeated Miss Crofton, ’has asked me to accompany her, and state her case.  She is too highly strung to speak for herself.’

Miss Baddeley wrung Miss Crofton’s hand, and visibly quivered.

Merton assumed an air of sympathy.  ‘The situation is grave?’ he asked.

‘My friend,’ said Miss Crofton, thoroughly enjoying herself, ’is the victim of passionate and unavailing remorse, are you not, Julia?’ Julia nodded.

‘Deeply as I sympathise,’ said Merton, ’it appears to me that I am scarcely the person to consult.  A mother now—­’

‘Julia has none.’

‘Or a father or sister?’

‘But for me, Julia is alone in the world.’

‘Then,’ said Merton, ’there are many periodicals especially intended for ladies.  There is The Woman of the World, The Girl’s Guardian Angel, Fashion and Passion, and so on.  The Editors, in their columns, reply to questions in cases of conscience.  I have myself read the replies to Correspondents, and would especially recommend those published in a serial conducted by Miss Annie Swan.’

Miss Crofton shook her head.

’Miss Baddeley’s social position is not that of the people who are answered in periodicals.’

’Then why does she not consult some discreet and learned person, her spiritual director?  Remorse (entirely due, no doubt, to a conscience too delicately sensitive) is not in our line of affairs.  We only advise in cases of undesirable matrimonial engagements.’

‘So we are aware,’ said Miss Crofton.  ’Dear Julia is engaged, or rather entangled, in—­how many cases, dear?’

Julia shook her head and sobbed behind her veil.

’Is it one, Julia—­nod when I come to the exact number—­two? three? four?’

At the word ‘four’ Julia nodded assent.

Merton very much wished that Julia would raise her veil.  Her figure was excellent, and with so many sins of this kind on her remorseful head, her face, Merton thought, must be worth seeing.  The case was new.  As a rule, clients wanted to disentangle their friends and relations. This client wanted to disentangle herself.

‘This case,’ said Merton, ’will be difficult to conduct, and the expenses would be considerable.  I can hardly advise you to incur them.  Our ordinary method is to throw in the way of one or other of the engaged, or entangled persons, some one who is likely to distract their affections; of course,’ he added, ’to a more eligible object.  How can I hope to find an object more eligible, Miss Crofton, than I must conceive your interesting friend to be?’