’Certainly, things don’t often happen so well.  I’m in town on very doleful business, and have come to see if you can help me.’

‘Help you?  How?  I do hope I can.’

‘Have you still your spare room?’

‘Oh, yes.’

’Then I may perhaps ask you to let me have it in a few days.  I must tell you how it is.  A poor girl, in whom I have a great interest, has fallen ill in very dreary lodgings.  I don’t think it would be possible to move her at present; I don’t in fact yet know the nature of her illness exactly, and, of course, if it’s anything to be afraid of, I shouldn’t bring her.  But that is scarcely likely; I fancy she will want only careful nursing.  Dr. Lambe is going to see her this evening, and he’s just promised me to send a nurse from some institution where he has to call.  If we can safely move her presently, may I bring her here?’

’Of course you may, Mrs. Ormonde!  I’ll get everything ready to night.  Will you come up and tell me of anything you’d like me to do?’

’Not now.  You look tired, and must rest before you go out again.  I’ll come and see you again to-morrow.’

’To-morrow?  Let me see; I shall be here at twelve, but only for a few minutes; then I shan’t be home again till half-past nine.  Could you come after then, Mrs. Ormonde?’

‘Yes.  But what a long day that is!  I hope you’re not often so late?’

‘Oh, I don’t mind it a bit,’ said the other, cheerfully.  ’It’s a pupil at Seven Oaks, piano and singing.  Indeed I’m very glad.  The more the better.  They keep me out of mischief.’

Mrs. Ormonde smiled moderately in reply to the laugh with which Mrs. Emerson completed her jest.

‘How is your husband?’

’Still far from well.  I’m so sorry he isn’t in now.  I think he’s—­ no, I’m not quite sure where he is; he had to go somewhere on business.’

‘He is able to get to business again?’ Mrs. Ormonde asked, without looking at the other.

’Not to his regular business.  Oh no, that wouldn’t be safe yet.  He begins to look better, but he’s very weak still.  It must be very hard for a man of his age to be compelled to guard against all sorts of little things that other people think nothing of, mustn’t it?’

‘Yes, it must be trying,’ Mrs. Ormonde replied, quietly.

Mr. Emerson was a young gentleman of leisurely habits and precarious income.  Mrs. Ormonde suspected, and with reason, that he nurtured a feeble constitution at the expense of his wife’s labour; he was seldom at home, and the persons interested in Mrs. Emerson had a difficulty in making his nearer acquaintance.

’And I can’t think there’s another man in the world who would bear it so uncomplainingly.  But you know,’ she added, laughing again, ’that I’m very proud of my husband.  I always make you smile at me, Mrs. Ormonde.  But now, I am so very, very sorry, but I’m obliged to go.  I manage to catch a ’bus just at the top of the street; if I missed it, I should be half an hour late, and these are very particular people.  Oh, I’ve such a laughable story to tell you about them, but it must wait till to-morrow, Harold says I tell it so well; he’s sure I could write a novel if I tried.  I think I will try some day; I believe people make a great deal of money out of novels, don’t they, Mrs. Ormonde?’