7
 
 The Spinster 
 
 BNIV. OF CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGKLK*
 
 BY HUBERT WALES 
 
 MR. AND MRS. VILLIERS 
 
 Popular Edition, Is. net. Library Edition, 6s. 
 The Times. "Apart from minor characters, the cast is Mrs. 
 ViUiers and Mrs. Baker, sisters ; their husbands, a writer and a City 
 man both well-to-do ; and ' Rosamond Hope.' The motif is a delicate 
 one, suited, it should be said, only to the experienced ; but it is treated 
 with dignity and restraint. The situations and the dialogue, too, are 
 handled with sureness and skill ; and the two sisters present feminine 
 character-studies of singular beauty." 
 
 CYNTHIA IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 Popular Edition, Is, net 
 
 The Daily News. " Whatever one may be inclined to feel about 
 Mr. Wales's subjects and the ethical doctrines which he preaches, he at 
 least has the merit of making his readers think. In this novel Mr. Wales 
 presents us with a problem which is practically the reverse of that stated 
 in ' Mr. and Mrs. ViUiers.' " 
 
 THE OLD ALLEGIANCE 
 
 Popular Edition, Is. net. Library Edition, 6s. Illustrated. 
 
 The Daily Telegraph. " It may be hoped that ' The Old 
 Allegiance' will be the widest read of Hubert Wales's books, for it is 
 distinctly the most entertaining. The first part of the book is excellent, 
 but better is to follow. We can safely say that the reader will be 
 greatly entertained by this tale, which is told with skill and charm, and 
 has the advantage of being very well written." 
 
 HILARY THORNTON 
 
 Popular Edition, Is. net. Library Edition, 6s. 
 
 The Daily Telegraph. " Thornton is a decidedly interesting 
 character, cleverly conceived, and, on the whole, well drawn throughout. 
 1 Hilary Thornton ' is a thoroughly interesting novel, as lively and 
 vigorous in execution as it is obviously sincere in conception." 
 
 The Pali Mall Gazette. "Our conviction is that' Hilary Thornton' 
 is both a courageous and a finished piece of work." 
 
 THE WIFE OF COLONEL HUGHES 
 
 Popular Edition, Is. net Library Edition, 6s. 
 
 The Globe. " Mr. Hubert Wales has the faculty of telling his story 
 in a markedly interesting fashion, and possesses in a pre-eminent 
 degree the gift of making his characters real live human beings. These 
 qualities he displays to the best advantage in ' The Wife of Colonel 
 Hughes,' which is the best thing he has yet accomplished." 
 
 The Observer. "When the book closes one feels that one has been 
 with people who have individuality, and who talk in an extremely lift- 
 like manner " 
 
 JOHN LONG, LTD., PUBLISHERS, LONDON 
 And at all Libraries and Bookseller^
 
 The Spinster 
 
 By 
 
 Hubert Wales 
 
 Sixth Edition 
 
 London 
 
 John Long, Limited 
 
 Norris Street, Haymarket 
 
 [All rights reserved]
 
 First published in igi2
 
 ' WE can yet learn a lesson even from the old 
 dwellers in Indian forests ; not the lesson of cold 
 indifference, but the lesson of viewing objectively, 
 as being in it, yet not of it, the life which surrounds 
 us in the market-place ; the lesson of toleration, 
 of human sympathy, of pity, as it was called in 
 Sanskrit, of love, as we call it in English, though 
 seldom conscious of the unfathomable depth of 
 that sacred word. Though living in the forum, 
 and not in the forest, we may yet learn to agree 
 to differ with our neighbour, to love those who 
 hate us on account of our religious convictions, 
 or, at all events, unlearn to hate and persecute 
 those whose own convictions, whose hopes and 
 fears, nay, even whose moral principles, differ 
 from our own. That, too, is forest life, a life 
 worthy of a true forest sage, of a man who knows 
 what man is, what life is, and who has learnt to 
 keep silence in the presence of the Eternal and the 
 Infinite." MAX MULLER.
 
 Copyright in the United States of America
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 IN her heart, Mabel Christopherson knew that it 
 was a disappointment to her that she had not 
 married. She felt that marriage was the end to 
 which nature had designed her. There were 
 reservoirs of love in her of wife-love and of 
 mother-love accumulating reservoirs, which had 
 never been tapped. She was emotional and she 
 was domestic a rare combination of character 
 when both qualities are innate and ineradicable. 
 Such a picture as Etcheverry's passionate " Ver- 
 tige " she dared not look at, for the fierce regret, 
 the unavailing sense of injustice and of depriva- 
 tion which it begot in her. She could cook with 
 her own hand dishes which would excite the 
 admiration and envy of the most shameless table- 
 lovers. There were particular culinary achieve- 
 ments for which she was locally famous. Mabel 
 Christopherson' s lobster cutlets and Mabel Chris- 
 topherson's chicken mousse were spoken of with 
 reverence beyond the limits of her family circle. 
 She made a famous apple- tart, which was the 
 
 9
 
 The Spinster 
 
 brazenly admitted objective of uninvited visitors 
 arriving about lunch-time in the winter. No one, 
 in spite of strenuous and cunning effort, had 
 succeeded in wringing from her the precise in- 
 gredients and method of it, but it was known to 
 be founded on a base of Newtown pippins, apricot 
 jam, and old Madeira. And what she did not 
 know about sick-nursing could be left out of the 
 category of things that matter. It had been her 
 ambition as a girl and her absorbing work as a 
 woman. She had trained in a great London 
 hospital, and for fifteen years had served it 
 strenuously as Nurse and Sister. 
 
 She had not married because she had not had 
 the opportunity to marry. Let us be quite exact : 
 one man in her life had asked her to marry him 
 a mild youth with a light moustache, who con- 
 ducted the remnants of an attorney's business in 
 a small provincial town. He had a wonderful 
 collection of beetles, to which he applied his spare 
 time ; and most of his time was spare. And he 
 prided himself that his vocabulary was not as the 
 uncouth and limited vocabularies of other men. 
 Mabel was not interested in beetles ; to be truth- 
 ful, she was a little afraid of them. That was 
 sixteen years ago. After that solitary, flushing 
 attempt to take his neighbour's daughter to wife 
 an attempt which he always afterwards felt to 
 have been slightly undignified and unworthy of 
 him, for he never could rid himself of the dis- 
 
 10
 
 The Spinster 
 
 tressing suspicion that he had failed, on that one 
 occasion, to express himself with adequate 
 lucidity and in the best words the mild attorney 
 had settled down to permanent bachelordom with 
 his sister and his beetles. 
 
 When Mabel came, in the course of time, to 
 realise that this one proposal was to represent 
 her life's opportunity, she felt some mild, half- 
 amused resentment that it had been made. It 
 showed in white relief the absolute limit of her 
 attractiveness to males ; and it prevented her 
 case against the world being crushing, unanswer- 
 able. 
 
 It cannot be denied, in spite of all that may be 
 said or written in regret of it, that physical charm 
 in a woman is by far the most potent factor in 
 attracting the masculine sex and leading to mar- 
 riage. Take any family of girls. It is not the 
 domestic one who is picked out for marriage, it is 
 not the artistic one, it is not the fine character ; 
 it is the good-looking one. There is rarely an 
 exception to that rule. The others may go, if 
 good fortune is with them, but the pretty one 
 goes first and goes certainly. If she doesn't, it 
 is from her own choice. 
 
 " She is such a nice girl." So everybody thinks. 
 The opinion is universal. But she does not marry. 
 She has no objection to marriage on principle, but 
 she does not marry. Women pretend to be sur- 
 prised. In their hearts they are not so ; they all 
 
 ii
 
 The Spinster 
 
 know men. Men, for the most part, only marry 
 when they can't help themselves, when, so to 
 speak, they are carried off their feet. If they feel 
 a little pull from this nice plain girl, they ask 
 themselves deliberately what it would be like to 
 see her on the other side of the breakfast table 
 every morning for the rest of their lives. They 
 choose the breakfast table, rather than any other 
 table, because at that hour of the day things are 
 quite uncompromising and look exactly what they 
 are. That acts as an effectual counter-charm, 
 and, having been found to be effective, it is sub- 
 sequently employed whenever there is a call for 
 it. They have successfully armoured themselves 
 against the niceness of the nice plain girl. 
 
 Let the facts be squarely stated : if a woman 
 has not a pretty face, she must have a good 
 figure, she must have grace of carriage, she must 
 have exquisite taste in dress, she must have some 
 physical charm, something to satisfy the visual 
 sense. For the plain girl unredeemed, with rare 
 exceptions, marriage is a closed book. Its clasps 
 are locked, and she has no key that can open 
 them. 
 
 Yet she is a woman like other women. People 
 easily forget that. They forget it because she 
 learns, poor thing, through hard and humiliating 
 experience, that she is so utterly " out of it," 
 that it becomes habitual with her to keep herself 
 in the background in all affairs which make an 
 
 12
 
 The Spinster 
 
 appeal to the hearts and emotions of women. 
 " Oh, is Anne going to the ball ?" There never 
 fails to be a note of surprise in that remark. It 
 seems curious that Anne should want to go to the 
 ball. Anne's relatives always assume that she 
 must necessarily have no such inclination. They 
 assume, in fact, that there are no disharmonies ; 
 that what appears as if it ought to be, is ; that 
 physically unattractive women have been given 
 special temperamental adaptation to find perfect 
 solace outside the things counted indispensable 
 to their prettier sisters. 
 
 But if we look into the heart of such a one, is it 
 to be supposed that we shall find nothing to dis- 
 turb that comfortable philosophy ? Is there 
 never any heart-burning ? When the flat truth 
 has been finally, relentlessly hammered home, 
 are there never any tears ? Does her pillow never 
 smother any stinging, harrowed plaints ? Does 
 she never cry out, in a storm of passionate revolt, 
 for that denied power to attract which alone can 
 make the yearnings within her comprehensible ? 
 
 Mabel Christopherson could not be called plain, 
 and she could not be called ineffective. Some- 
 times she was almost elegant. But, for all that, 
 she was not, in externals, an attractive woman. 
 She was tall and thin and flat-chested. Her 
 features were regular, and she had very sympa- 
 thetic grey eyes. She was neither angular nor 
 haggard, but her face, like her figure, was thin. 
 
 13
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Her teeth were uneven, and one or two of them 
 were conspicuously makeshifts. Usually her face 
 was calm, but sometimes, under the influence of 
 a particular environment or a particular topic, 
 in a warm and fleeting flush to her cheeks, a swift, 
 pathetic glow in her eyes, quickly conquered, one 
 who was observant enough could see the signs of 
 stemmed emotion. At the age of thirty-seven 
 her dark hair was becoming very grey in front. 
 She did not lack taste in dress ; she was never 
 seen in ill-fitting and ill-harmonising clothes ; but, 
 beside a woman gowned to the hour on Parisian 
 models, she would look homely. 
 
 For the last fifteen years, however, she had 
 worn, for the most of her days, the blue-grey 
 uniform of St. Bartholomew's Hospital. A woman 
 needs to be very plain not to look well in a nurse's 
 costume. Mabel was no exception. She did look 
 well ; but it was not the " well " that makes a 
 direct and lively appeal to men. It was a grace- 
 ful, gracious, compassionate, tender " well." It 
 appealed to the mother, to the father, and, pre- 
 eminently, to the child. And it appealed to 
 Andie. 
 
 Andie was her brother her much younger 
 brother whose full name was Herbert Andrew 
 Christopherson. He knew her as well as any 
 human being can be known outside the inacces- 
 sible sanctuary of inner personal consciousness ; 
 he knew or guessed her secrets, as she knew or 
 
 14
 
 The Spinster 
 
 guessed his ; and he was heartily and emphatically 
 of opinion that there were a great many astonish- 
 ingly silly men in the world. 
 
 There was every reason that he should know 
 her well. Circumstances had conspired to throw 
 them closer together, and to make them more 
 dependent upon one another, than is commonly 
 the case with brother and sister, particularly when 
 they are separated by a wide gap in years. To 
 begin with, they were the only children of their 
 father, though not the only children of their 
 mother. She, good lady, had by no means failed, 
 like her daughter, of matrimonial opportunity 
 and experience. Her first husband had been a 
 thriving iron-founder, who, marrying somewhat 
 late, had thereupon retired from business and 
 hoped to settle down, with his young and charming, 
 if slightly frivolous, wife, to the enjoyment of 
 well-earned and honoured ease. Scurvy Fate, 
 however, had called him to his fathers after less 
 than two years of connubial felicity. He left one 
 son behind him now a married man of forty-one 
 with a family, who for the last twenty years had 
 been in prosperous possession of the major portion 
 of his parent's considerable property. The iron- 
 founder's amorous little pussy-cat of a widow had 
 quickly married again. This time she had chosen 
 a naval Commander, a man who need not be 
 blamed if, in addition to the call of his heart, he 
 had recognized that the widow's substantial house 
 
 15
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and comfortable income would provide an accept- 
 able supplement to his pay. As became a good 
 sailor, he proceeded without delay to give hos- 
 tages to fortune. The first was Mabel, born within 
 a year of their marriage ; then came two others, 
 both of whom died ; and then, after a long in- 
 terval, when the bassinettes and perambulators 
 had been distributed to deserving relatives, 
 Herbert Andrew made his belated appearance. 
 
 Since the birth of Andie, the child of her middle 
 years and this was the second and most potent 
 factor which made to throw Mabel and her 
 younger brother closely together Mrs. Chris- 
 topherson had always been something of an 
 invalid. She became subject to delusions and to 
 violents fits of temper, arising from the smallest 
 provocation or from none at all. When she 
 entered one of the shops in Blanford there was 
 no competition among the assistants to serve her. 
 She became, too, exceedingly, even aggressively, 
 devout a prepossession somewhat at variance 
 with the habit of her earlier years. In her cease- 
 less pursuit of spiritual solace, she neglected her 
 domestic affairs, her husband, and children. The 
 latter no longer appeared to have any but an 
 incidental interest to her. She went off to 
 church, leaving Providence to give orders for 
 the bodily well-being of the family. Food and 
 drink were no longer of moment to her personally ; 
 but the Commander did not find that his appetite 
 16
 
 The Spinster 
 
 failed him, and his children continued to apply 
 for their meals at regular intervals. 
 
 So it happened that Mabel was withdrawn 
 from school when she was barely seventeen ; and, 
 from that time till she took up her hospital work, 
 she had to assume virtual command of the house- 
 hold. Particularly she had to take charge of 
 little Andie. She saw him through his infantile 
 ailments and battled with his infantile recalci- 
 trance. Later, when he had to go to school, it 
 was she who got him his outfit, and it was in her 
 arms that he shed his secret tears. When he was 
 fourteen he was brought near to death's door by 
 an acute attack of pleurisy. By that time Mabel 
 had been several years at hospital. She came 
 home instantly. Never in her professional life, 
 strenuous as it often was, had she worked as she 
 worked to save Andie. She would have no one 
 to relieve her, allow no one to touch him but 
 herself. She took both day and night duty, with 
 such slight assistance as her mother was capable 
 of giving. When it was over, when he had 
 turned up the road to recovery, she sank on a 
 bed beside him and slept, without moving, for 
 twelve hours. Once she partly roused : that was 
 when, surprised at seeing her so sound asleep in 
 broad daylight and fully dressed, she heard him 
 say : " What's the matter with Mabs ?" She 
 opened her eyes for a second and smiled at him, 
 then went to sleep again. It occurred to her 
 
 17 B
 
 The Spinster 
 
 afterwards that there must have been many other 
 people talking in that room during the hours she 
 was asleep, who had not wakened her. 
 
 Later again it was under Mabel's guidance 
 that Andie had his first sight of London. It was 
 she who met him at King's Cross ; she who imme- 
 diately plunged him down into a Tube and made 
 him burrow underground, so that he should see 
 nothing until they reached the point she had 
 designed ; she who eventually brought him out 
 in triumph on Waterloo Bridge from the south, 
 and showed him the Metropolis of the world. 
 
 Andie had been articled to a firm of solicitors, 
 and that first visit to London befel from the 
 necessity that he should pass the preliminary 
 examination of the Incorporated Law Society. 
 Two years later he again came, and this time 
 stayed two months, in order to coach for the more 
 exacting Intermediate. He lived during that 
 period in rooms in Earl's Court, which Mabel had 
 taken for him. They met often, and, in the 
 course of their long conversations, Mabel acquired 
 a wide, if somewhat confused, knowledge of the 
 laws of England. Other subjects were barely 
 touched. If they passed a Carter Paterson van, 
 Andie expounded to her the law of bailees, as it 
 applied to common carriers ; if they went into a 
 restaurant, he talked during lunch of the re- 
 sponsibilities of innkeepers under the multi- 
 tudinous enactments bearing upon their business ; 
 
 18
 
 The Spinster 
 
 if she took him to see St. Paul's or Westminster 
 Abbey, he explained to her precisely how the law 
 of marriage stood, and pointed out to her the 
 common convenient errors of popular novelists. 
 Even when, for a little relaxation, they went to 
 the pit of a theatre, he would disclose to her, in 
 the intervals, in what respects the law introduced 
 into the play was faulty. There was no play 
 running in London at that time, she found, in 
 which the author did not exhibit a surprising 
 ignorance of British jurisprudence, without com- 
 ment from the critics or the public. 
 
 At last came the day of the examination, and, 
 a week or two later, the day that the lists were 
 published. The interval had been a period of 
 dreadful suspense. Andie was not brilliant, and 
 he did not pretend to be. They had been through 
 all the papers together, compared his answers 
 with the right answers, and marked them with a 
 good margin, as they felt, on the side of caution. 
 They thought it was all right, but they did not 
 speak much on their way to the Law Society's 
 Hall to see the lists. When they stood in the 
 lobby, in front of the big notice-board, she felt 
 his hand in hers grow cold, before her anxious, 
 eager eyes had been able to read the names on 
 the printed list. Then, pressing his hand hard, 
 she looked steadily. His name was not there : 
 it simply was not there. The names on the list 
 jumped from " Cayley " to " Clarke." She 
 
 19
 
 The Spinster 
 
 stared at it blankly, incredulous. She herself, it 
 seemed to her, since the last two months, could 
 have passed an examination in " Stephen's Com- 
 mentaries." Then she heard him say, in a low 
 voice, but in a tone of immense relief : " Oh, it's 
 all right, Mabs ; we were looking at the wrong 
 board. Those are the Finals." She looked for 
 the other. " Where ?" she asked, and she was 
 astonished to find how hard it was to speak. 
 " There, on the right," he answered in a whisper, 
 and without looking at her. The suspense over, 
 he was suddenly desperately concerned lest their 
 elation should be noticed by the other people in 
 the lobby. " My name is the sixth down don't 
 you see ? ' Christopherson, Herbert Andrew.' ' 
 She let go his hand, and they strolled out of the 
 building ; and it was not until they had walked 
 to the end of Chancery Lane and had turned into 
 the Strand, that they said anything about the 
 shock. And it was not until they had passed 
 under an archway into the quiet of the Temple, 
 that Andie threw his hat into the air and Mabel 
 threw her arms round his neck. 
 
 Another year and a half had passed, and now 
 Andie was again in London, living in the same 
 rooms as before, and passing his days in the some- 
 what grimy offices of a firm of solicitors, who, 
 during a final year, were to put the coping-stone 
 on the edifice of his legal education. At the age 
 of twenty-three he was the sort of young man 
 
 20
 
 The Spinster 
 
 sunny, bright, good-natured, without affectation, 
 without egoism who cannot make enemies, and 
 who instinctively makes friends. Within a radius 
 of ten miles of the small East Anglian town 
 where most of his life had been spent, everyone 
 knew him and everyone liked him old and 
 young, rich and poor. His manner with a 
 hobbling old man in the street was precisely tfite 
 same as with a beautiful woman in a ballroom, I 
 or with one of his elder brother's rather turbulent 
 children. He would have liked to have been a 
 sailor ; but his mother had been passionately 
 averse, and his father, even if he could have 
 risked a serious breakdown of her precarious 
 mental balance by thwarting her, had not, with- 
 out her active assistance, the means to meet the 
 cost of training. So, with a heavy secret sigh, 
 but without demur, Andie had entered upon a 
 life of office routine. 
 
 When he left his native town to spend the last 
 year of his articles in London a year which 
 might easily prove to be the beginning of a more 
 extensive separation from the associations of his 
 childhood there was a crowd, drawn from all 
 classes, at the station to see him off a crowd 
 which his elder brother, who assiduously strove 
 to be the big-wig of the place, and to whom such 
 evidences of personal popularity were not ac- 
 corded, secretly resented. He arrived in his car 
 rather late, accompanied by his handsome wife, 
 
 21
 
 The Spinster 
 
 both clad in furs, and made his way with her 
 through the throng on the platform. Andie 
 greeted them with a beaming smile a smile 
 which always had in it something extraordinarily 
 genuine and winning, and which, on this occasion, 
 contained also a certain element of amused be- 
 wilderment. He was quite embarrassed amidst 
 the utterly unexpected signs of his own popu- 
 larity, and hardly knew what to do. He kept 
 waving to various people from his third-class 
 carriage, and, in the rush to shake hands with him 
 as the train moved off, his brother got jostled. 
 The latter managed, though with some difficulty, 
 to control his temper ; but once back in his car, 
 out of earshot of the crowd, he fully expressed 
 his feelings to his wife : " Damned nonsense ! A 
 boy like that ! Damned nonsense !" 
 
 Notwithstanding that her father who had 
 long retired, with the full rank of Captain had 
 died a few months previously, this year that 
 she had Andie with her in London was a very 
 happy one for Mabel. He had again to prepare 
 for an examination, the last and most severe. 
 And he again gave her the benefit of the special 
 wisdom won from the midnight oil ; but, partly 
 because with the increase of years his mind was 
 expanding, and partly because his work was now 
 spread over a longer period of time, he did not 
 talk of law to the exclusion of all other subjects. 
 There would have been a certain excuse for him 
 
 22
 
 The Spinster 
 
 if he had done so, for he was now required to 
 prove an intimate acquaintance with the whole 
 of the laws of England. One branch of them 
 there was which gave him no trouble, and upon 
 which he felt no doubt of his ability to satisfy the 
 small demands of the examiners. It was one, 
 unfortunately, which was likely to be of little 
 practical service to him the law of Admiralty. 
 Upon this subject, indeed, he became versed not 
 merely in the theory of the law, but in the prac- 
 tice of the Courts ; for he watched the Cause Lists, 
 and, whenever there was an Admiralty case to be 
 tried, he was punctually in attendance. His 
 heart gave a bound when he got into court and 
 saw the judge sitting beneath the large anchor, 
 with a naval assessor on either side of him ; and 
 every witness seemed to bring with him a breath 
 of the sea. 
 
 Another field which he had now to survey for 
 the first time was Criminal Law. In connection 
 with this, Mabel was made acquainted with a 
 number of startling matters previously unknown 
 to her. Andie was particularly careful that she 
 should understand the state of the law as it bore 
 on her own profession. He told her precisely 
 what would be her position in case she should 
 accidentally give poison to a patient, explaining 
 to her fully the difference between " negligence " 
 and " gross negligence," and the extent to which 
 each would be relieved by " contributory negli- 
 
 23
 
 The Spinster 
 
 gence." He also criticised the methods of the 
 examiners. 
 
 " Now, just to show you," he said one day 
 when she had come to tea with him, " I'll tell 
 you a question they asked last time. They 
 won't ask it again just yet, so it doesn't really 
 matter ; but you'll see how they try to have 
 you." He picked up one of a number of pam- 
 phlets containing the questions set at previous 
 examinations, together with answers and com- 
 ments supplied by the editor, who was his coach : 
 
 ' A prize-fight takes place between A and B, 
 upon A's challenge, in which A is killed. The 
 seconds of the parties are present. What offences 
 have been committed by B and by the seconds ?' 
 The answer is only a word or two, but it makes all 
 the difference between full marks and nothing." 
 He looked across at her with rather an injured 
 expression. 
 
 " Do you want me to guess ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, he didn't mean to kill him." 
 
 " No ; that's what they want you to think." 
 
 " So it would be manslaughter." 
 
 " Yes, that's what they want you to say. But 
 it's wrong. It's the silliest thing in the world to 
 answer a question by common sense. You should 
 only do it as a last resource. That's what 
 Dickson says." Dickson was the coach. 
 
 " Oh, of course," said Mabel. " I forgot it 
 24
 
 The Spinster 
 
 said it was on A's challenge. I should have been 
 caught. It couldn't be B's fault if he was chal- 
 lenged, so it would be accidental death." 
 
 " Wrong again," shouted Andie jubilantly 
 " worse wrong than ever. That about the 
 challenge is only put in to throw dust in your 
 eyes. It doesn't matter twopence whose chal- 
 lenge it is. The answer is ' murder,' and both 
 seconds are accessories. Dickson says seventy- 
 five per cent, got it wrong, in spite of his con- 
 tinually telling them that that's the kind of 
 shabby trap they always try to lay for you." 
 
 " But how can it be murder ?" asked Mabel, 
 genuinely puzzled. 
 
 " Because," replied Andie, in a tone rather like 
 that of a small boy carefully repeating a set of 
 words he has been taught, " when B killed A, he 
 was engaged in an unlawful act namely, prize- 
 fighting." 
 
 Mabel knit her brows. " I see," she said. 
 " Then what's manslaughter ?" 
 
 But that was too much for Andie.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 THEY were sitting, while this conversation took 
 place, in Andie's sitting-room. It was a chilly 
 evening in November, and they had drawn two 
 basket-chairs as close to the front of the fire as 
 they could get them. The room was comfortably 
 furnished. Andie had provided his own pictures. 
 These were chiefly seascapes and shipping sub- 
 jects, " The Fighting Temeraire," a great favourite 
 of his, and half a dozen others. Mabel always felt 
 she would like to hang them all two feet lower, 
 but Andie said he was not going to have them 
 " scraping the floor," so they remained where 
 they were. The place of honour over the mantel- 
 piece was occupied by a large sepia print of a 
 torpedo-boat, boring at full speed into a heavy 
 sea. A day or two before, to Mabel's astonish- 
 ment, a picture of an entirely different character 
 had suddenly made its appearance on one of the 
 walls. This was none other than a small photo- 
 gravure of Etcheverry's " Vertige," the painting 
 which appealed with such intolerable vividness 
 to her. 
 
 He had come into the room on that occasion 
 26
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and found her looking at it, fascinated, her eyes 
 tense and resentful. 
 
 " Andie," she said, " I want you to promise, 
 when you know I am coming, always to put that 
 picture away." 
 
 " All right, Mabs," he agreed readily ; " but 
 why ?" 
 
 She sat down, and did not answer for several 
 seconds. " It makes me dissatisfied," she said 
 at last. " I am thirty-seven. That has never 
 happened to me, and now it never will. Can't 
 you understand ?" 
 
 Andie understood. He was not demonstrative, 
 or he would have gone up to her and kissed her. 
 He felt the impulse to do so. Not many English 
 youths of twenty-three would have got further 
 than that ; and, on the whole, perhaps we may be 
 thankful for it. When his sister had gone, he 
 took the picture out of the room altogether and 
 hung it in his bedroom. 
 
 Now, as they sat in their basket-chairs, warm- 
 ing their hands, he returned abruptly to this 
 subject. His voice ended a long period of silence. 
 
 " Do you know why I bought that picture, 
 ' Vertige '?" he asked. 
 
 " Tell me," said Mabel, still looking at the fire. 
 
 " It was because I thought the woman in it 
 was rather like a girl I know." 
 
 Mabel turned and looked at him. " Andie, you 
 silly boy ! What's her name ?" 
 
 27
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Kathleen McCormick. Doesn't it go nicely ?" 
 
 " Kathleen Christopherson would go almost as 
 well. Do you think you like her ?" 
 
 " I like her much more than any girl I ever met. 
 But, of course, it would be ridiculous, wouldn't 
 it, Mabs ?" 
 
 He looked at her with a frank, smiling sense of 
 the preposterous in his eyes, which, nevertheless, 
 had behind them a plaintive, adventurous in- 
 terrogative. His face was round and smooth 
 and boyish, his eyes big and blue-grey, his hair 
 brown and slightly waving. 
 
 " Well, you would have to wait till you are 
 through your articles," said Mabs. 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 
 " And until you have got some kind of prac- 
 tice." 
 
 " Yes, I know. And by that time she would 
 have forgotten all about me. Oh, it's silly, 
 isn't it ?" 
 
 " I said it was just now," replied Mabs ; " but 
 it's not really. It never is. It's no more silly, 
 when one has left childhood, than that one should 
 want to eat and drink and sleep. It's part of 
 us. But it's often very inconvenient and awk- 
 ward." 
 
 " Besides," said Andie, picking up the poker 
 and stirring the fire," she would never dream of 
 it, anyhow good gracious ! so what's the good 
 of talking?" 
 
 28
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Tell me something about her," said his 
 sister, who was quite aware that the one thing 
 he wanted, just then, was to talk. " How did 
 you get to know her ?" 
 
 " I met her first at a dance at Croome's you 
 know, one of the partners in Benson's. He's 
 awfully decent to his articled clerks. Then Mrs. 
 McCormick asked me to a dance. I told you 
 about it, don't you remember ? the people in 
 Regent's Park. Since then I've seen a good deal 
 of her. You know how it goes on. They've 
 taken me for motor drives, and I've been to 
 theatres with them, and met them at skating- 
 rinks and places of that sort. I never knew 
 kinder people. They are a large family Kath- 
 leen is the eldest but one and they're all the 
 same." 
 
 " Is she pretty ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, she's awfully pretty," said Andie. 
 
 " They are always pretty," said Mabel, with 
 something like a sigh at the tail of the remark. 
 " That is all men care about." She was speaking 
 rather to herself than to Andie. 
 
 " But she is much more besides," he put in 
 hastily. " You haven't seen her, Mabs." 
 
 " Of course I haven't. I didn't mean to say 
 anything against her, Andie," she added, with 
 quick assurance. " I was only speaking my 
 thoughts about men in general. I should like to 
 see her." 
 
 29
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Sure you would ?" 
 
 "Sure?" smiled Mabel. "Well, if she is 
 going to be Mrs. Andrew Christopherson, I 
 think I had better formally make her acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 Andie blushed. " Oh, you always will begin 
 rotting," he said. 
 
 " Can you bring her to tea with me at the 
 hospital ? Have you got so far as that ?" 
 
 " Good gracious ! no." 
 
 " Then how are you going to manage ? Shall 
 I make a state call with you ?" 
 
 " Oh no, that would look fearfully pointed." 
 
 " I think you would be expected to propose," 
 said Mabs. 
 
 " I don't mind your humbug," he asserted. 
 " The best thing would be, if you wouldn't mind 
 coming to the Maida Vale Rink on Saturday 
 afternoon, on chance." 
 
 " Do you sometimes go on chance ?" 
 
 Andie burst out laughing and jabbed at the 
 fire. " You are a beastly rotter, Mabs !" 
 
 " But do you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And is she generally there ?" 
 
 ' Yes, either with her mother or one of the 
 boys. She's awfully keen on roller-skating." 
 
 " On Saturday afternoons ?" said Mabs. 
 
 " But, of course, it would be just our luck if 
 she were not there this Saturday." 
 
 30
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Silly boy ! Would you like to bet with me ?" 
 
 " Anything you like." 
 
 " Then I'll bet you half a crown to a ginger- 
 bread-nut that we shall see her." 
 
 However, when the afternoon arrived, she 
 began to think for a time that she might, after all, 
 lose her bet. She had skated several times with 
 Andie, and there were no signs of the fair Kath- 
 leen among the whirling, whirring crowd. She 
 was enjoying herself so much that she felt 
 almost disappointed when suddenly he said, " Oh, 
 here they are !" and went to meet, with his 
 sunny smile, a stout, cheerful-looking, middle- 
 aged woman and a tall, elegant girl, who were 
 coming towards them. His universal, unvarying 
 popularity was again evidenced by the frank 
 gladness with which both mother and daughter 
 greeted him. The elder woman at once launched 
 herself upon extensive speech. 
 
 " Oh, my dear boy, I am glad to find you. 
 We've been looking for you all over. We thought 
 you might have gone. It's my fault we are late. 
 Everything went wrong after lunch. And then 
 Kathleen kept worrying ; but I said : 'It's no 
 good, my dear ; I'm getting ready as fast as I 
 can, and I can't get ready any faster.' Now, 
 I've brought a book and left my glasses behind, 
 so what am I going to do while you two are 
 merry-go-rounding ? Here, take Kathleen and 
 put her skates on. I must sit down." She
 
 The Spinster 
 
 stopped breathlessly and moved towards the 
 seats. 
 
 " That's all right, Mrs. McCormick," said 
 Andie, with a gentle, almost paternal glance. 
 " Let me introduce my sister." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick was all smiles as she held out 
 her hand. " Now I shan't mind having left my 
 glasses," she said. " Come and sit down, my 
 dear. Your brother is a great friend of ours. 
 This is my daughter Kathleen." 
 
 Kathleen, as Andie had said, was pretty ; she 
 was tall, she had dark hair and dark eyes, and a 
 graceful, willowy form. But she was not insipid. 
 Indeed, Mabel thought she could detect signs 
 beneath her delicate features of an amount of 
 personal assertion which, if it were opposed, could 
 reach the point of obstinacy. Her present bearing 
 was completely artificial the effect partly of an 
 inborn desire always to be correct in her social 
 relations and partly of the stiffening properties 
 of her mother's too expansive truth-telling. 
 
 " How do you do ?" she said, holding out a slim 
 gloved hand, with just so much warmth in her 
 voice and just so much softening of her eyes, as 
 gave the impression that she had studied and 
 measured the precise amount of cordiality which 
 would be becoming at that first meeting. " I 
 am so glad to know you. Your brother has often 
 talked of you." 
 
 Mabel was not misled. This was a young per- 
 32
 
 The Spinster 
 
 son, she saw, who had to be approached in her 
 own way and at her own pace. When her rollers 
 had been fixed and Andie took her off to skate 
 her stiffness slipped from her, and she became at 
 once natural and happy, her face flushing with 
 youth and spirits. 
 
 Mabel, sitting beside the voluble, genial matron, 
 who made but light call either upon the mental 
 vigilance or upon the vocal organs of her listener, 
 watched them. She watched them, and she 
 watched the others, moving in long graceful 
 curves, in dainty twists, in sudden, skilful pirou- 
 ettes, in swinging, effortless time-. The music 
 and the low roar of the skates stung her ears. 
 She could skate to these waltzes, she could enjoy 
 them ; her blood beat, her feet twitched to be 
 moving too. But her lot was to sit and look on 
 to sit and listen to Mrs. McCormick's hearty 
 chatter. And everybody appeared to be satisfied 
 that that was a lot which naturally fell to her and 
 which necessarily sufficed for her. They did not 
 suspect, here or at any time, the turbulent 
 longings she had to subdue. Even to skate with 
 Andie, best of brothers though he was, was to 
 skate with her brother. He was the same con- 
 tented, infectiously happy being, whichever of 
 them was his partner ; but she knew and she 
 did not blame him, she understood that to 
 skate with Kathleen gave him a sharper pleasure 
 a pleasure of an utterly different nature, a 
 
 33 c
 
 The Spinster 
 
 pleasure which, for the last twenty years of her 
 life, she had never doubted her own acute capacity 
 to feel. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick easily took her into her confi- 
 dence. The cares of a family, it appeared, were 
 by no means all beer and skittles. Mrs. McCor- 
 mick shook her head, and was cheerfully fluent 
 upon the subject of her trials. Husbands, even 
 the best of them, were blessed with but a limited 
 domestic comprehension, and children, as they 
 grew older, developed ways and ideas which, in 
 bulk, fitted into no known domiciliary plan. She 
 had six children a son older than Kathleen, a 
 son and a daughter younger, and two girls still 
 in the schoolroom. Now, there was Kathleen, 
 for instance : she was a very nice girl no mother 
 could want a nicer girl but she had taken it 
 into her head to be a vegetarian. Vegetarianism 
 might be very well for scientific people who lived 
 in a scientific way she did not know but it 
 introduced a new and unnecessary and persisting 
 problem into the ordinary commissariat, already 
 sufficiently charged with problems. Her eldest 
 son had started to read for the Church, but he 
 now called himself a theosophist, and the Church 
 had no room for theosophists, so he was talking 
 about emigrating. Her younger son attended 
 strange lectures upon a subject called " Eugenics." 
 She did not know what Eugenics were, and she 
 was quite content to remain in ignorance, but 
 
 34
 
 The Spinster 
 
 she would be very much surprised if they didn't 
 eventually stand in the way of his career. 
 
 At this point in her confidences the two skaters 
 glided to a halt in front of them. Kathleen, by 
 this time, was considerably thawed. 
 
 " Now you must skate, Miss Christopherson," 
 she said, " while I talk to mother." 
 
 Involuntarily her voice faintly touched a note 
 which Mabel's ears were practised to perceive 
 of consideration, of kindness, to one less favoured. 
 
 " Come on, Mabs," said Andie, holding out his 
 hands over the barrier to pull her up. 
 
 " Are you tired, Kathleen ?" asked her mother. 
 
 " Not specially," replied Kathleen. 
 ' Then off you go again, and leave us alone. I'm 
 sure Miss Christopherson doesn't want to skate." 
 
 The good lady genuinely believed she was 
 saying the truth ; she was enjoying her conversa- 
 tion, but she was not selfish. Andie knew better, 
 but he did not tell his knowledge or flagrantly 
 act on it. 
 
 Instead, he took Kathleen's hand again. 
 
 " She'll have to come next time, though," he 
 said, indicating Mabel. " So will you," he warned 
 Mrs. McCormick. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick laughed at him, and cheerfully 
 returned to her remarks about modern fads. In 
 ten minutes the pair were back again. This time 
 Andie came behind the seats and unceremoniously 
 pulled Mabel to her feet. 
 
 35
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Come along, lazy-bones," he said. 
 
 Mabel, in fact, skated very well better 
 than Kathleen a fact which so aroused Mrs. 
 McCormick's surprise and admiration that she 
 immediately expressed her sense of it to her 
 daughter, and was perplexed to find that Kath- 
 leen's response wanted something in enthusiasm. 
 After doing several independent curves and turns, 
 which brought them always together in a wide 
 wheel round the axis of their joined hands, Andie 
 put his arm about Mabel's waist, and, in such 
 close order, they glided smoothly round and 
 round the rink, swaying easily in time with the 
 music. 
 
 " They seem to go very nicely like that," said 
 Mrs. McCormick. " Why doesn't he do it with 
 you ?" 
 
 "I should think not!" exclaimed Kathleen 
 indignantly. 
 
 " But you do it when you're dancing." Mrs. 
 McCormick, as not unfrequently happened, was 
 somewhat taken aback by her daughter's unex- 
 pected vehemence. 
 
 " Dancing is a different thing," said Kathleen, 
 in a tone of finality a tone of finality not unwise, 
 because, truth to tell, she did not see her way 
 much further. 
 
 The band stopped, and the brother and sister 
 returned. 
 
 " Now I'm going to skate with Mrs. McCor- 
 36
 
 The Spinster 
 
 mick," Andie announced, seizing her by the hand. 
 " Come, and I'll find you some skates." 
 
 " Oh, get away, you stupid boy !" said Mrs. 
 McCormick, by no means displeased. 
 
 The band started again. " Oh, this is the 
 ' Haunting Waltz,' " breathed Kathleen, closing 
 her eyes. " Don't speak to me, anybody." 
 
 Kathleen, like most girls of her age, was more 
 than a little sentimental. It would have given 
 her exquisite satisfaction to be asked by a painter 
 to pose, with drooped lids over a white lily, for a 
 figure of " Purity." She had tried it in her bed- 
 room, and knew she could do it well. 
 
 Andie danced the waltz with her. Then they 
 returned and fetched Mabel, and, for a time, all 
 three skated. But Mabel was presently struck 
 with compunction for having left Mrs. McCor- 
 mick alone, and went back to her. She found her 
 frankly bored. 
 
 " My dear," she said, in a dark undertone, " I 
 think I shall just slip away. Kathleen wouldn't 
 let me go, if she knew ; she's very particular. But 
 she will be all right with you "; and Mrs. McCor- 
 mick, gathering together her belongings, duly 
 slipped away, giving Mabel, as she went, a cheery, 
 confidential smile, which was very nearly a wink. 
 
 When Kathleen found that her mother had 
 gone, she stiffened instantly. 
 
 ' Then / must go," she said. " Mother is 
 sometimes rather trying. I know you will both 
 
 37
 
 The Spinster 
 
 see me home, won't you ? I'm so sorry to give 
 you the trouble, but it is not very far." 
 
 " Stay for one more waltz," Andie begged. 
 " Mrs. McCormick knows where you are." 
 
 " I should love to," said Kathleen. " But I 
 can't now. I think it's too bad of mother," she 
 added, in a tone of frank impatience. 
 
 Kathleen McCormick, it may be detected, was 
 a young lady who did not intend to get herself 
 talked about. 
 
 Before he parted with his sister at the hospital, 
 Andie ventured to ask : " Don't you think she 
 is awfully nice ?" 
 
 " Yes, very," replied Mabel. " She is a little 
 inclined to pose and to worship with unnecessary 
 fervour at the altar of convention ; but those 
 are both surface failings, which will wear off. If 
 ever she is my sister-in-law," she added, smiling, 
 " I shan't consider I have any grievance against 
 you, Andie."
 
 Chapter III 
 
 A FEW days later Mabel received two letters 
 which had an important bearing upon the sub- 
 sequent course of her life. The first was from 
 her elder brother her half-brother. He lived, 
 in substantial comfort, at a country house two 
 or three miles outside her native East Anglian 
 town of Blanford, where her mother still lived. 
 It was upon the subject of the latter that he was 
 moved to the rare act of penning a fraternal 
 epistle. Mabel always had difficulty in making 
 out his handwriting. It was of the careless, 
 hurried type ; he used a thick pen, and got little 
 on a page, and the words were very incomplete. 
 They began well, with the firm apparent inten- 
 tion of becoming words, but wearied suddenly, 
 about half-way to accomplishment, and dwindled 
 abjectly to unintelligible tails. 
 
 " DEAR MABEL " (he wrote), 
 
 "I'm just come home from Blanford, 
 where I went in to see Mater. She talked a lot 
 of rubbish to me about the Canon's attentions to 
 
 39
 
 The Spinster 
 
 her, and I didn't get at all a satisfactory account 
 of her from Mrs. Taylor. She is becoming more 
 trying and difficult to manage, and, in her fits of 
 temper, is taking to throwing crockery about. 
 No one seems to know what is likely to excite 
 her. All in a moment she will fly off into a rage, 
 and then anything that is handy a poker, an 
 ink-pot, a water-bottle will come at Mrs. 
 Taylor's head. Luckily she seems to have 
 escaped getting seriously damaged up to the 
 present, but a woman engaged as housekeeper can 
 hardly be expected to put up with that kind of 
 thing. In fact, she told me to-day that she 
 couldn't go on. 
 
 " In these circumstances I think you ought to 
 feel it is your duty to come and live at home and 
 look after your mother. I've always thought so 
 since your father died, and before. I know you 
 are fond of your present life, and that you would 
 look upon coming back here as coming to the end 
 of the world, burying yourself alive, and so on. 
 In that case, some of us manage to live fairly 
 happily in our graves, and hang it all ! it's some- 
 times necessary to do things we don't particularly 
 want to do. It happens, too, that these hysterical, 
 neurotic cases are those you have had most ex- 
 perience with and know best how to manage. If 
 you won't come, the only alternative will be to 
 engage a properly trained attendant in addition 
 
 40
 
 The Spinster 
 
 to Mrs. Taylor. That would make it a pretty 
 expensive household for one old body, and, besides, 
 the sight of anyone officially told off to look after 
 her would probably irritate her badly, because she 
 doesn't look upon herself as an invalid of any kind. 
 
 " Now, try and make up your mind to come, 
 and let me have a reply as soon as possible, because 
 a new arrangement of some sort has to be made 
 without much delay. 
 
 " Clara and the kids send love. 
 
 " Your affectionate brother, 
 
 " HUGH S. CAVOUR." 
 
 As she read this letter, it seemed to Mabel that 
 her brother, in spite of putting it without a super- 
 abundance of tact, managed to present a fairly 
 convincing surface-case in support of his wish. 
 The only part of it, however, which appealed to 
 her, which had any weight with her at all, was 
 that which told her about the graver condition 
 of her mother's health. She felt then, and she 
 was to feel for days during which she debated 
 the matter, that this would take her back to 
 Blanford. The rest of the letter made no im- 
 pression upon her, because she knew that what 
 her brother said was less important than what 
 he failed to say. 
 
 To go back to Blanford would mean to re- 
 linquish the work to which she had devoted her 
 
 41
 
 The Spinster 
 
 life, to break her career at the point when it was 
 approaching fruition. What her brother said 
 about her particular experience was true. There 
 were certain disorders, demanding in their treat- 
 ment a combination of skill, understanding, and 
 tact, in the conduct of which she was recognised 
 as being at the head of her profession. No 
 doctor on the visiting staff at St. Bartholomew's, 
 with a cerebro-nervous case on his hands, but 
 would apply first for her assistance and con- 
 gratulate himself if he obtained it. The assistant 
 matronship, or some other responsible post at the 
 hospital, was now well within her reach. Her 
 brother said nothing about that. 
 
 And there was another and yet more important 
 factor, telling against her resignation of her 
 present position. That was the financial one. In 
 respect of worldly substance she and Andie were 
 in positions very different from that of Hugh 
 Cavour. His father had been a rich man, and 
 had left his son a rich man ; theirs had had nothing 
 but his pay. Mrs. Christopherson was comfort- 
 ably established for her life : besides the income 
 charged on her first husband's estate, she had her 
 second husband's pension ; but at her death there 
 would be nothing for her two younger children 
 beyond such small savings as she might have ac- 
 cumulated. When that time came, if she consented 
 to abandon her professional career, Mabel would be 
 
 42
 
 The Spinster 
 
 left to face the world with very slender resources. 
 Again, her brother said nothing about that. 
 
 He asked her merely to " consider it her duty " 
 to leave her work, to leave her prospects, to leave 
 London and her friends there, to leave the 
 humming world and the quick interests it had for 
 her, and to return permanently to Blanford. 
 There she would have to take her place once 
 more, after all these years of absence, among the 
 queer little coterie of people who made up the 
 social life of this small, remote provincial town, 
 to be immured again among the little jealousies, 
 the little interests, the little intrigues, which she 
 had left as a girl and almost forgotten. It would 
 be like raking dead leaves leaves which remained 
 in the corners where they had been swept. 
 
 There was one other factor of her personal 
 situation which would be profoundly affected by 
 such a sacrifice as she was asked to make, and it 
 is probable that the knowledge that it would be 
 so whether or not she was fully conscious of it 
 gripped her more acutely than anything else : 
 that was the unexpressed feeling of her heart that 
 the central purpose of her being was marriage and 
 motherhood. If she did not marry, her life, when 
 it reached its term, would not, perhaps, have been 
 altogether futile, but it would have been a make- 
 shift life. She recognised that to take up her 
 settled abode at Blanford would mean to face 
 
 43
 
 The Spinster 
 
 finally that makeshift life, to rivet herself upon 
 a shelf from which even the mild attorney would 
 no longer have any disposition to remove her. 
 
 The second letter she had received that morning 
 came from a man she had met two or three years 
 before on board a P. and O. steamer, when she was 
 on her way to India to bring home a patient a 
 man with whom she had afterwards, and, as she 
 thought, permanently, lost touch. It was written 
 in a light, easy hand, and was quite short : 
 
 " DEAR Miss CHRISTOPHERSON, 
 
 " You won't have to cudgel your brain, I 
 hope, to remember your correspondent. If you 
 do, think what a humiliation for me, who have 
 been looking forward for the last three years to 
 the day when I should be able to write this letter ! 
 The last time I saw you, you gave me a promissory 
 note, signed by the light of the stars, which I have 
 been careful not to lose, to the effect that, when 
 I returned from India, I should be allowed to 
 come and see you. Well, here I am back, you 
 see for good, I hope and that promissory note 
 is now duly presented for payment. I am a 
 keen creditor not disposed to grant rebates or 
 extensions of time so, if you are alive and in 
 London, please name your day. 
 
 " Ever sincerely, 
 
 " HORACE REGISTER." 
 44
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabel smiled over this letter, with pleasure and 
 with a slightly tickled sense of humour. It re- 
 called two or three weeks of her life which had 
 been very pleasant ones, and it brought before her 
 a vivid picture of the writer a quick, clever, 
 charming, and somewhat impious, man a man 
 whom everybody knew, everybody liked, and in 
 whom nobody quite believed. He was well on the 
 stage between forty and fifty when she knew him, 
 and getting very white, but otherwise extraordi- 
 narily youthful in appearance, light in his build and 
 in his movements. He had left on Mabel, even from 
 the comparatively little she had seen of him, the 
 impression of a man who, in rather an accentuated 
 sense, was two men one when he was on his best 
 behaviour, and one when he wasn't. They on the 
 ship had seen him only in the first character ; but 
 she could conceive circumstances when he would 
 be capable of giving those connected with him a 
 very bad time, when the boyish, laughing look 
 which they saw in his eyes would be decidedly 
 absent from them, when he might be a mule and 
 a brute in one. Even on the boat he had been 
 prone to quick bursts of annoyance about nothing, 
 over in a second. His face would flush, his words 
 come angrily perhaps to a waiter or a steward 
 and then he would remember himself, and look 
 suddenly and transiently as shamefaced as a 
 child. Mabel used to think that, if he had a 
 
 45
 
 The Spinster 
 
 wife, she would need to be a wise and tactful 
 woman to play him with success a woman who 
 would let out the line unhesitatingly to the 
 end of the reel when he pulled, and when the 
 strain was off wind it in again, cautiously and 
 evenly. She felt sure that, if a woman tried to jerk 
 him, he would break the line without a thought. 
 
 But he had no wife : he was a widower " a 
 confirmed widower," as he was fond of empha- 
 sizing. He openly congratulated himself upon 
 being well out of it particularly upon being 
 well out of it before he had reached the sear and 
 yellow leaf. " Never again !" he would say, with 
 a light, ringing laugh that had in it both mirth 
 and cynicism a laugh that was peculiarly char- 
 acteristic of him. He had frankly a wide circle 
 of feminine friends. When he had shown a dis- 
 position to cultivate her acquaintance, Mabel had 
 been quite aware that his utmost thought was to 
 add to their number. She had felt that he was 
 sharp enough, probably, to have discovered that 
 there was more in her more of the essentially 
 feminine in her than was preceived by the army 
 of men whose blunter minds or temperaments 
 make them no subtle judges of female character. 
 The night of which he reminded her, when she had 
 signed a promissory note " by the light of the 
 stars," was one which would not easily be effaced 
 from her memory. It came vividly back to her 
 
 46
 
 The Spinster 
 
 now. They were only a day or two out from 
 Bombay, where they would shake hands it might 
 very well be for the last time. Gliding through 
 the black water in the silence of the warm tropical 
 night, she felt again the wonderful content that 
 was in her, as she sat beside him in a corner of the 
 deck, reclining among the cushions of her deck- 
 chair ; she heard again the low tones of his voice 
 as he bent lightly towards her. Nothing she 
 could remember nothing that had struck the 
 same note had appealed to her in quite so 
 intimate and satisfying a way before or since. 
 Even when afterwards she realised that his 
 apparent response to the emotional influences of 
 the night, had probably sprung less from his heart 
 than from his wits, she did not mind very much. 
 It showed at least that he thought enough of her 
 to trouble to play the tune which he felt she would 
 like best. 
 
 She remembered the promise that he might 
 come to see her in London. He had spoken in 
 a semi-light way, as he usually did, and she never 
 could quite be sure, then or at any time, whether 
 he meant what he said. He meant it at the 
 moment, she felt, but it fixed the impression that 
 the feeling behind it was not sufficiently sincere 
 to stand the test of time. So it was something 
 of a surprise to her a happy surprise to receive 
 his letter. She answered it at once : 
 
 47
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " DEAR MR. REGISTER, 
 
 " I am really glad you have not forgotten 
 me. I am alive and in London, and quite ready 
 to redeem my note. Come to tea with me, will 
 you, on Thursday or Friday ? I shall be free on 
 either day after five o'clock. 
 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " MABEL CHRISTOPHERSON." 
 
 She posted that letter on Tuesday morning. No 
 reply came until Thursday at noon, when she 
 had a telegram from him, choosing Friday. She 
 concluded that he had been away from his hotel 
 in the interval, and she faced quite calmly the 
 possibility that other strings to his bow might 
 explain that absence. He had been in India 
 three years. If he had numerous threads to pick 
 up on his return, if his letter to her had been one 
 of several, toned in various degrees of warmth, 
 according to the stage of his acquaintance with 
 the addressees, ~she could summon sufficient 
 philosophy to accept the fact with reasonable 
 equanimity. 
 
 A little before five o'clock on the afternoon of 
 Friday she gave the porter at the gate careful 
 instructions as to how her expected visitor was 
 to be directed to her, and then retired to her room 
 and filled her kettle. Register in essentials was 
 a capable man, but he affected to have in addition 
 
 48
 
 The Spinster 
 
 the capacity to meet whatever superficial and 
 temporary circumstances might confront him 
 easily and to the best advantage, always to be 
 " at home " and to " do the right thing "a 
 capacity he did not naturally possess. Mabel 
 suspected that in unaccustomed surroundings he 
 would prove to be singularly helpless. She felt 
 almost sure that if she had not given directions 
 to the porter to help him help he would loftily 
 affect not to require (he was the kind of man 
 who would not care to have it known that he 
 had not been in the hospital before) he would 
 bluster, ask the wrong people, make an un- 
 necessary noise all to hide his actual embarrass- 
 ment eventually reach her by a tortuous route 
 and with a grievance. 
 
 With the porter's assistance, however, he was 
 fairly punctual. She heard him come lightly up 
 the stone steps and knock briskly at her door. 
 She was sitting over her tea-things. 
 
 " Come in," she said. Her breath was indrawn 
 for a moment and her heart beat more quickly. 
 
 He came in. Neat and slim, wearing a light 
 overcoat, and removing a polished silk hat from 
 his head as he entered, he looked very much like 
 a member of their own medical staff. His hair, 
 if possible, was a little whiter than when she had 
 seen him last, but otherwise he was unaltered. 
 He was still as boyish as ever. The sparkling, 
 
 49 D
 
 The Spinster 
 
 smiling look was in his eyes as he came straight 
 forward to greet her. He had the faculty of making 
 a woman feel that to see her, to talk with her, was, 
 of all things in the world, what he most desired. 
 
 " What a relief to my mind !" he said ; " I 
 was afraid you might have changed out of uni- 
 form. If I had met you in the street, I should 
 never have dared to think I knew anyone so nice 
 to look at." He held her hand a moment or so 
 longer than was necessary for greeting. 
 
 " How like you," said Mabel, " to begin with a 
 remark like that !" 
 
 " Well, one must begin with something. Be- 
 sides, it's true." Without being asked, he plopped 
 down beside her on the sofa upon which she was 
 sitting, and leaned comfortably back in the corner 
 of it. With the easy manner of a familiar friend, 
 he took in his surroundings. " What a jolly room 
 you've got !" 
 
 " It's the only one I have," replied Mabel, " so 
 I must make it as attractive as possible." 
 
 Certainly it was very prettily furnished, and 
 the firelight, glowing on the brass fender, on the 
 tea-things, on the many pictures and knick- 
 knacks, gave it a cheerful aspect. 
 
 " If ever you should want to sell that Chippen- 
 dale writing-table," said Register, " give me the 
 first offer. And now," he said, turning towards her 
 with an earnest air of coming to business, " tell me 
 
 50
 
 The Spinster 
 
 everything you have been doing since I saw 
 you." 
 
 " That would be all shop," said Mabel, " and 
 I'm sure it wouldn't interest you." 
 
 " It would interest me very much to be nursed 
 by you," said Register ; "it would almost be 
 worth being ill." 
 
 " Oh, but what an awful patient you would 
 be!" 
 
 " How do you know ?" He looked at her 
 keenly, but with obvious gratification. 
 
 " I can see. The only way to make you do 
 anything would be to tell you not to." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You could make me do anything." 
 There was the slightest accent on the " you," and 
 a look in his eyes that was at once tender and 
 rather wicked. It was a look that was fasci- 
 nating to women because of its genuineness. It 
 was not put on : it was really tender and rather 
 wicked. It expressed the man's nature. 
 
 Mabel felt she ought to appear to be displeased 
 by his warming personal note ; but, in fact, it 
 was so grateful to her, so much like balm in a 
 thirsty Gilead, that she could not find will at 
 least, not at present to check it. 
 
 Register slipped lightly from his fervently 
 expressed desire to hear the particulars of her 
 recent life. " Well, anyhow, you are not married 
 yet," he said. 
 
 51
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Oh no," said Mabel, with ajittle laugh. " I'm 
 completely on the shelf and getting dusty." 
 
 " What rubbish !" 
 
 She felt herself blushing slightly under his look. 
 " It's not rubbish at all," she said. 
 
 " You are a woman who ought to marry," said 
 Register. 
 
 Mabel bent forward to take the kettle from the 
 hob. 
 
 " You know it yourself ?" he pressed, leaning a 
 little towards her, his eyes sparkling. ' You 
 can't deny it." 
 
 " It doesn't matter whether I can or not," said 
 Mabel, filling the teapot ; " it can't alter the case." 
 
 "In a properly constituted world," said 
 Register, working himself to a certain indignation, 
 " there would be no shelf at all." 
 
 He was full of fervently entertained, but ill- 
 digested, odds and ends of revolutionary opinion. 
 " Man is naturally polygamous," was one of his 
 pet tenets ; and he delighted to uphold it in argu- 
 ment, in vehemently jovial tones, in the face of 
 scowling countenances. 
 
 Mabel laughed. " Then it seems the best I can 
 hope for is your polygamist State and a small 
 share of a man ?" 
 
 " Half a loaf is better than no bread," said 
 Register, with a smiling sense of impertinence. 
 
 "Oh, you horrible egoist !" 
 52
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " All men are egoists where women are con- 
 cerned. It's the polygamous instinct." 
 
 Mabel began to feel a little suspicious of the 
 drift of the conversation. She handed him his 
 tea. 
 
 " You haven't put sugar in it ?" he asked, with 
 an affectation of desperate fear. 
 
 " No, I haven't," said Mabel. 
 
 " Sugar in tea is an abomination," he de- 
 claimed, with as much fervour as if he had been 
 laying down a brand-new revolutionary principle 
 to a gathering of Socialists. 
 
 " Men such as you," said Mabel, " live in a 
 world of abominations abominations you create 
 out of your own minds, so that you may have the 
 joy of shouting, ' Down with them !' ' 
 
 " They are not imaginary, and they've got to 
 be downed," said Register, falling into that 
 slightly parental tone which men of strong political 
 views half consciously adopt when they talk to a 
 woman. 
 
 " That's easy to say," said Mabel, ignoring the 
 tone ; " but it's ever so much better to build up 
 than to break down." 
 
 ' Yes, but you must break down first, so as to 
 get your site." 
 
 "I'm glad that doesn't happen with our real 
 houses," said Mabel ; " we should get rather cold 
 in the interval, especially at night." 
 
 53
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Register smiled. 
 
 " So we wait," continued Mabel, " until we have 
 built up a beautiful new house to live in, before 
 we begin to think of pulling down the old one." 
 
 " It's no use talking to you," said her visitor, 
 laughing, partly with genuine enjoyment and 
 partly to cover some slight pique at the way she 
 had turned the point against him ; " women 
 don't understand politics." 
 
 " That's what men always say," said Mabel, 
 quite satisfied, " when they haven't an answer." 
 
 " I'll have some more of this cake," said 
 Register, who had already consumed one generous 
 slice, helping himself. 
 
 " I suppose you are still a widower ?" Mabel 
 asked. 
 
 He finished a mouthful. " Rather !" he said. 
 " A confirmed widower. Never again !" he added, 
 with his laugh. 
 
 Register had certain favourite phrases which he 
 was fond of repeating. He was serenely under 
 the impression that he was expressing himself 
 thus to Mabel for the first time. In truth, she 
 could have spoken the familiar words for him. 
 
 " Why are you so scornful about marriage and 
 women ?" she asked him. " It's not very 
 chivalrous of you, if it is just because you your- 
 self, perhaps, happened to be unfortunate." 
 
 " I dare say there were faults on both sides," 
 54
 
 The Spinster 
 
 he admitted. " I don't suppose I am very easy 
 to get on with. I can be no end of a beast if I 
 like," he said, with a slightly apologetic smile. " I 
 ought not to have married. There are some 
 people who are not intended for marriage their 
 tempers can't stand the cramped atmosphere 
 and I expect I am one of them. Let's talk of 
 something else." 
 
 " Tell me just one thing," Mabel begged : 
 ' You have no children, have you ?' 
 
 " None living." 
 
 " Perhaps it would have made a difference if 
 you had had. Did you live together to the last ?" 
 
 " With intervals," said Register. 
 
 Mabel told herself that it was utterly pre- 
 posterous that it should cause her even a twinge 
 of disappointment to find that his determination 
 to make no further matrimonial experiment was 
 as firm as ever. He was certainly a man whom 
 it was pleasant to talk to in this semi-bantering 
 way, and she hoped he would come again ; but 
 until she had received his letter the other day he 
 had passed from her thoughts, and, to be sure, 
 the few minutes during which he had been 
 sitting in her room had revived in her no 
 personal symptoms, born of the night under 
 the stars. Yet that it did cause such a twinge 
 she was somewhat resentfully conscious. She 
 had been thinking, perhaps, that to a woman 
 
 55
 
 The Spinster 
 
 who understood him, and who had plenty of tact, 
 who was prepared to give him rope, and to be 
 undismayed by his changing moods and his 
 vagaries of temper, while at the same time she 
 sought quietly to grow into his heart and become 
 indispensable to him, it might be a delight, and 
 a gathering delight, to be placed with the oppor- 
 tunity to make this man contented and home- 
 loving, and to temper, at least, his cynical out- 
 look. She did not know quite how he employed 
 his time, what he did for a living. He had been 
 out to India in connection with the development 
 of some company. He was always full of schemes, 
 full of enthusiastic hopes, which did not, so far 
 as was apparent to her, bear liberal fruit. A 
 man of astute mind, he appeared to lack the 
 faculty to put his brains steadily to profitable 
 account. He might make money, and probably 
 did so, but he would make it by fits and starts. 
 There again, it seemed to her, was scope for the 
 calming and steadying influence of a practical 
 and wise woman. 
 
 He must be left, however, to plough impetuously 
 his furrow of confirmed widowerhood, rasping his 
 share and ruffling his temper upon the many 
 stones whose existence he would deny till they 
 were encountered, but getting along ; and she it 
 was curious that the thought should have come in 
 sequence must return to Blanford. 
 
 56
 
 The Spinster 
 
 "It is lucky you wrote to me when you did," 
 she said to him. " If you had waited a little 
 longer I might not have been here." 
 
 " Good gracious !" he exclaimed in a startled 
 tone, real or apparent. " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " I am thinking of returning to my old home 
 at the new year." 
 
 " For good ?" He almost glared at her, but 
 with affected fierceness. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But why ?" He spoke in a tone which almost 
 suggested that she had unjustifiably sprung 
 something upon him to which he was entitled 
 to object. 
 
 " My mother is an invalid, and there's no one 
 else to look after her." 
 
 " But it's ridiculous," he said. " I can't let 
 you go." 
 
 Mabel laughed. It struck her sense of humour 
 that this man, who had re-entered her life but 
 half an hour before, should speak quite earnestly, 
 as though he had a serious claim to constrain her. 
 
 Register was not wholly affecting concern. He 
 did, in fact, feel slightly annoyed. While he 
 had been sitting there, he had been proposing to 
 himself more or less subconsciously some 
 pleasant times, during the year he expected 
 to spend in London, with this entertaining and 
 sensible and sufficiently human woman. And 
 
 57
 
 The Spinster 
 
 he did not take kindly to have his projects, how- 
 ever dimly conceived, summarily knocked on 
 the head. 
 
 He bent suddenly towards her. " Please don't 
 go ?" he said, in a low voice of appeal. 
 
 " It's very nice of you to care, or pretend to 
 care, whether I do or not," said Mabel. " I'm 
 sure I don't know why you should but I'm 
 afraid I shall have to. I haven't quite made up 
 my mind yet there are a great many things that 
 have to be considered but I think it must come 
 to it." 
 
 " You're a wretch !" he said, and appeared for 
 a moment or two almost to be inclined to sulk. 
 He was a man who had become habituated to 
 what is called " success " with women, and he 
 was not accustomed to have his appeals, even if 
 they were not granted, passed quite so calmly as 
 Mabel had passed the one he had just made to 
 her. 
 
 The next second his good sense came to his 
 rescue. Stroking first one side and then the other 
 of his slight fair moustache, which was in contrast 
 with his white hair, his eyes, which were con- 
 templating Mabel, gradually smiled, and his 
 cheeks gradually widened. " I like you," he 
 said, with a little audacious emphasis on the last 
 word. 
 
 " Thank you," said Mabel sedately, struggling 
 58
 
 The Spinster 
 
 to prevent herself catching the infection of his 
 cheeky smile. " How have I managed to earn 
 such a high distinction ?" 
 
 ' You've got a soul of your own. You wouldn't 
 let yourself be coaxed, and you wouldn't let your- 
 self be bullied." 
 
 " You ought to avoid me, then. Because those 
 are the two methods you consistently use to get 
 your own way with women." 
 
 " How do you know ?" They were the same 
 words he had used once before during the inter- 
 view, and they were toned with the same slight 
 note of pleasure. 
 
 ' You are quite easy to read," said Mabel, now 
 looking at him blandly. " You are not at all 
 obscure." 
 
 " I am sorry you are going away," he said, 
 meeting her glance steadily. 
 
 Somewhat to her chagrin, Mabel found she had 
 to drop her eyes. He was making her smile, 
 and something more. 
 
 " Well, anyhow," he said buoyantly, " we'll 
 enjoy ourselves until you do go. There's over a 
 month." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean by ' enjoy 
 ourselves/ " said Mabel very solemnly. 
 
 " Oh yes, you do." 
 
 Again the smile, which she had been striving 
 to keep back, irresistibly broke through. 
 
 59
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " You humbug !" 
 
 Mabel|got up. " You can't stay any longer. 
 I'm very sorry, but I have some work to do." 
 
 " Now I do think that is beyond everything !" 
 he exclaimed, rising sharply, with indignant 
 laughter in his eyes. " It was my business to 
 say when I thought the visit had reached a 
 reasonable term." 
 
 She gave him her hand. " But you didn't 
 say it, did you ?" 
 
 " Of course not ; I wasn't going to say it. I 
 was feeling quite comfortable in what I supposed 
 to be an impregnable position, according to all 
 social canons." He released her hand, and took 
 a little memorandum-book from his pocket. 
 " What night will you dine with me ? What's 
 to-day ? Friday. Saturday Sunday Mon- 
 day Tuesday " he was turning over the leaves 
 of the book " will you dine with me on Tues- 
 day ?" 
 
 Mabel shook her head. 
 
 " Wednesday, then no Thursday. Will 
 Thursday do ?" 
 
 " My aunt is staying in London," said Mabel, 
 without moving a muscle of her face. " Would 
 you mind if she came too ? It would be rather 
 a treat for her ?" 
 
 He flung the book at her. 
 
 " Do you know a cosy little restaurant in 
 60
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Jermyn Street called ' Les Lauriers ' ?" he pro- 
 ceeded, a moment later. He picked up the book 
 and began to write in it. " Come there at eight 
 o'clock on Thursday, will you ?" 
 
 " Can't you fetch me ?" 
 
 " I will if you like." 
 
 He plainly did not want to do so. Mabel had 
 only put the question to see what his reply would 
 be. " Oh, but it would be rather selfish of me 
 to make you come so far East, wouldn't it ?" 
 
 He looked at her keenly, obviously genuinely 
 a little puzzled. " What are you saying ? Are 
 you laughing or aren't you ?" 
 
 " I really don't know. Anyhow, I think I can 
 find my way," she said. " But supposing I don't 
 come ?" 
 
 " If you don't, I shall be sorry for the waiters 
 or somebody," said Register. 
 
 And his half mirthful, half cynical laugh re- 
 mained in her ears as he ran down the stairs. 
 
 61
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 As had been apparent to her inner consciousness 
 would be the case, from the moment she had 
 received her brother's letter, Mabel decided to 
 sever her connection with the hospital, and in the 
 early days of the new year she was on her way 
 to Blanford. Apart from the upheaval of her 
 career and the necessity to face an uncertain 
 future which this involved, it was no small wrench 
 for her to part from the old grey building she had 
 grown to love, which had provided for seventeen 
 years the stimulating interest of her life, and 
 within whose walls she had formed or cemented 
 so many friendships. But she felt the pull of 
 her heart to her mother's side in her need. She 
 knew enough of cerebro-nervous ailments to feel 
 unfortunately little doubt that her mental 
 stability, long impaired, was passing the stage of 
 weakness, and beginning to yield definitely to 
 the strain of years. It would have been in- 
 tolerable for her to continue her work at the 
 hospital with the knowledge that her mother, 
 in that anxious condition of health, was left to 
 
 62
 
 The Spinster 
 
 the care of strangers. However kind they might 
 be, however watchful and conscientious to do 
 their best for her, she would be deprived of the 
 love and the tender service which she herself 
 only could give. Her brother, to be sure, lived 
 within three miles of her, but his occasional visits 
 would be visits mainly of duty. He retained, 
 no doubt, some remnants of filial kindness for his 
 mother, but he was not, and never had been, a 
 man capable of deep, natural attachments. He 
 admired his good-looking wife, and was fond of 
 his children, but in no absorbing sense. He was 
 a magistrate, a county councillor, a politician ; 
 he was devoted to various forms of sport, and his 
 heart extended very little way outside those 
 interests. His wife, on her own candid confession, 
 was a purely selfish woman. " My dear," she 
 would say, if anyone sufficiently intimate made 
 the accusation, " I admit it." She was a woman, 
 never idle, who never did any work. She em- 
 ployed herself, frankly and steadily, in the pursuit 
 of pleasure. She lived for clothes, for bridge, for 
 golf, for dancing, for riding, for motoring, for 
 social functions, for anything which could bring 
 her amusement and keep her pleasantly occupied. 
 Except her daughter, there was no one who could 
 give the little old lady who lived in the big Dower 
 House at Blanford the kindly affectionate care 
 she needed. So Mabel went. 
 
 63
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Before leaving London, she saw Register twice 
 again. The first time was when she saved the 
 waiters at the Jermyn Street restaurant from a 
 bad half -hour literally saved them, for she fully 
 realised that Register's remark had been no piece 
 of facetious chaff, but a plain statement of what 
 would surely happen if she disappointed him. 
 The second time was an evening when he took 
 her, at her own request, to the Maida Vale 
 Skating Rink. He had asked her to suggest some 
 amusement, and, remembering the feelings that 
 had taken hold of her when she had gone there 
 with Andie, she had thought of this. Register 
 was a man to whom all such physical arts as 
 skating and dancing were a second nature : he 
 did not have to learn them, he was born with 
 them. As she danced swinging waltzes with him, 
 glided round in great rhythmic circles, or swept 
 straight forward resting in his arm while all 
 the time the rollers roared and the string band 
 swelled above the roar Mabel, as it felt to her, 
 was carried nearer heaven than she had ever 
 approached in this world of matter. She was so 
 enthralled, so taken out of herself, that she was 
 quite unaware that many of the other skaters 
 stopped to watch them. Register was not un- 
 aware of it : he knew well enough he was skating 
 before a gallery, and the knowledge added a 
 piquancy to his enjoyment which nothing else 
 
 64
 
 The Spinster 
 
 could have given. If Mabel, good skater though 
 she was, made the smallest trip, the least hesita- 
 tion which could mar ever so slightly the perfec- 
 tion of a movement, his lips were compressed 
 with momentary annoyance. 
 
 While he was putting on her cloak, he said to 
 her : " You skated very well and they were all 
 looking at you." 
 
 " Good gracious !" exclaimed Mabel, honestly 
 astonished. 
 
 " You didn't know it ?" 
 
 " No," she answered, quite candidly. " I 
 was enjoying it too much to think of anyone 
 else." 
 
 He drew back his hands, which had lingered a 
 moment on her shoulders, and came to her side. 
 " Aren't you sorry there can't be an encore another 
 night ?" 
 
 " Of course I am." And once again, to her 
 chagrin, she found herself obliged to drop her eyes 
 before his. 
 
 When he parted from her that night at the 
 Little Britain Gate of the hospital, he held her 
 hand for a long time : she let him hold it. 
 ' You are really going ?" 
 " Yes, in three days." 
 
 " I'm not much of a writer," he said, " but 
 write to me occasionally, will you ? And I'll 
 do my best in return." 
 
 65 E
 
 The Spinster 
 
 ' Yes," Mabel promised, " but not very often. 
 Living up there in that corner of the world, I 
 shall have nothing to tell you that will interest 
 you. I've liked these little evenings, it has been 
 very good of you to entertain me ; but it won't 
 take you long to forget all about me, and it 
 doesn't seem very likely that we shall meet 
 again." 
 
 " Who knows ?" said Register lightly. " That's 
 what you said before." With a final pressure 
 he released her hand and removed his hat, showing 
 his white hair. There was a genuine tincture of 
 sadness in his smile : " Good-bye." 
 
 Mabel ran through the gate into the hospital. 
 She knew that it had become harder for her to go 
 to Blanford. It occurred to her that, just because 
 of that, it might be well for her that she was going. 
 Register was an unstable being ; she knew that, 
 even at that moment, she did not represent his 
 only feminine interest ; and he had made no 
 concealment of his emphatic determination not 
 to marry again. She did not misjudge him ; she 
 had sounded his character fairly accurately ; she 
 credited him with his dues, and debited him with 
 his faults. He was not a deliberate hunter of 
 women ; in his intercourse with them he never had 
 any ulterior thoughts in his mind. But he liked 
 their society, he entertained himself with it. And 
 that involved, when a woman was sharply re- 
 
 66
 
 The Spinster 
 
 sponsive to emotional influence, the possible 
 coming of a moment when both he and she might 
 be carried off their feet. 
 
 But, without question, it had become harder 
 for her to go to Blanford. The reasons which had 
 made it a struggle for her to go had received an 
 addition to their weight so heavy that it at least 
 equalled the others combined. That night, as 
 she lay awake, she was almost inclined to be sorry 
 for herself. The next morning, when she was 
 crossing the square, she saw a little boy of eight, 
 who had just had his left leg amputated, hopping 
 about on his crutches, cheerily humming. He 
 had not been one of her cases, but she had heard 
 of him in the wards. Suddenly her own woes 
 seemed very trivial. Here was this little fellow, 
 who had suffered a terrible and irreparable 
 handicap at the outset of his life, philosophically 
 making the best of the remains of fortune. She 
 picked him up and kissed him, and gave him a 
 shilling. " You are a dear little boy," she said, 
 " and it's a very good thing for me that I've seen 
 you." 
 
 Two days later her long connection with the 
 hospital came to an end : she drove from its 
 gates for good and all. It might have been sup- 
 posed that the thought of that would occupy her 
 mind during the journey to Blanford. So it did, 
 at intervals. But as the big train drew slowly 
 
 67
 
 The Spinster 
 
 out of King's Cross gathering its forces together 
 without haste, in the calm consciousness, as it 
 seemed, of the hundreds of miles it had to compass 
 that day and picked its way through the deep 
 trough, lined with metal sheets of advertisement, 
 that took it out of London, sitting in the corner 
 of her third class carriage, she was thinking of 
 Register as it snapped through Hitchin at 
 terrific speed, she was thinking of Register ; as 
 it glided sedately, almost clandestinely, through 
 Peterborough, she was thinking of Register ; and 
 as it pulled up, after its long run, at Grantham, 
 she was thinking of Register. Then she made 
 a determined effort of will, and threw her thoughts 
 forward instead of backward. She had done the 
 same thing before, with only fleeting success, but 
 as she approached her old home, it became easier 
 to repicture the conditions that were in store for 
 her. 
 
 The small circle of folk at Blanford in which 
 she would move and have her being had changed 
 very little, so far as her annual visits during the 
 period of her hospital life had shown her, since 
 she left it in her girlhood. The mild attorney 
 was still to be seen on its pavements ; his manners 
 were still unexceptionable ; he still uttered social 
 commonplaces and expressed ordinary opinions 
 in carefully regulated English. His collection of 
 beetles had become by this time, in his view, 
 
 68
 
 The Spinster 
 
 almost of national importance. Then there was 
 Dr. Deas. Blanford would not have been Blan- 
 ford without Dr. Deas, a kind-hearted and corpu- 
 lent man who carried his excessive weight with 
 slow and measured tread. Even to sit down in 
 an easy chair caused Dr. Deas a deep and audible 
 exhalation of breath, and continued to do so at 
 intervals while he remained in it. His views, 
 narrowed by environment, were mellowed by old 
 port. Mabel remembered from her infancy, and 
 with some kindliness, his fleshy, clean-shaven face, 
 flanked by close-cropped whiskers, his many chins, 
 and his little eyes. 
 
 Her mind continued to travel on, with a curious 
 half melancholy interest, amid these people who 
 had formed the world of her girlhood. There was 
 Mr. Quirk, the Bank Manager a little man with a 
 big nose, who found the world seriously out of 
 joint, and talked importantly and informatively 
 on the subject. He called himself a Socialist, and 
 did not disguise the fact that he was of the same 
 clay as Sir Mortimer Edgcumbe, the principal 
 local landowner, who lived in some state at Edg- 
 cumbe Park, six miles outside the town. Others 
 in Blanford and its neighbourhood showed him 
 a certain deference, and quietly plumed them- 
 selves if they had his acquaintance ; but when his 
 big car drew up at the bank and he stepped out 
 in his furs, the little manager talked to him 
 
 69
 
 The Spinster 
 
 across the counter with considered equality, to the 
 admiration of his clerks. 
 
 But the man of men at Blanford, the sun about 
 whom its whole system revolved, was the Canon 
 Canon Carson, the vicar of the parish. He was 
 a man of parts, something of a litterateur, and 
 wore among his flock an air of quiet but conscious 
 distinction, not merely as their pastor, but as one 
 who stood upon a higher intellectual plane. This 
 was brought out in some subtle way in every line 
 and trait of him : in the slow lifting of his heavy 
 beard, in the drooping of his eyelids, in his soft 
 and silky voice a voice which he never raised, 
 and in which he suggested the epitome of cul- 
 ture. At all local functions he softly stole to the 
 most prominent place, and, ere he sat down, 
 half closed his eyes, as if from brain strain. The 
 young ladies of the parish, including Mabel her- 
 self at one time, leaned eagerly and deferentially 
 to his words. 
 
 He presented himself to the world as a friend 
 of the poor, and wore, in their behoof, the same 
 label as the bank manager. But the two were 
 not on terms of intimacy. The Canon, indeed, 
 if they met in the street, glided past Mr. Quirk 
 as if he were not there. It was a moot point in 
 Blanford whether the manager of a bank could 
 be regarded as standing on the same footing as 
 the indubitable gentlefolk members of the 
 
 70
 
 The Spinster 
 
 learned professions and their wives, retired officers 
 of the services and their wives, landed proprietors, 
 and so on. Mr. Quirk was a married man, and 
 that gave rise to the further question, under this 
 head, whether Mrs. Quirk was quite all she should 
 be : not whether she was all she should be in the 
 matter of morals there was no doubt of that 
 but whether her pedigree would bear the scrupu- 
 lous inspection which pedigrees at Blanford were 
 expected to bear. Moreover, there were religious 
 differences between the pair : the little Socialist 
 candidly regarded the creed which the Canon 
 professed and throve upon, as out-of-date and 
 impossible to submit to serious examination. 
 
 The Canon did not, however, in other directions, 
 neglect social obligations. From time to time, 
 and as occasion required, he waited upon Sir 
 Mortimer Edgcumbe, who did his best to smother, 
 in his presence, his hasty temper. If a political 
 celebrity particularly one attached to the party 
 which, like himself, profitably professed to be a 
 friend of the poor visited the town, Canon 
 Carson was punctually at the hotel to welcome 
 him. In this he showed his consideration ; for 
 it is manifest that not the least of the difficulties 
 of those upon whom falls the duty of making high 
 ecclesiastical appointment, is lack of personal 
 touch with the men best qualified for episcopal 
 responsibility. In other ways, too, he consulted
 
 The Spinster 
 
 the repute of Blanford by keeping himself well 
 to the front in matters of public interest. He 
 wrote articles both for the ecclesiastical and the 
 secular Press, and regularly attended Church 
 conferences, addressing his remarks to those 
 bodies with considerate regard for the capacity 
 of the stenographers. It was said that his sub- 
 scriptions to Press-cutting agencies formed no 
 inconsiderable item of his annual expenditure ; 
 but, since his stipend was augmented by his wife's 
 comfortable private means, such a small luxury 
 was well within his reach. 
 
 By the time Mabel had arrived at this point in 
 her reflections, she had left the Great Northern 
 express, and was on the local rail leading to Blan- 
 ford. There was no rush of progress here ; an 
 atmosphere of leisure dwelt upon the face of 
 Nature and produced a sense of comfort ; every- 
 thing moved slowly, including the train. At one 
 of the wayside stations, where Mabel was looking 
 out of her carriage window to see what might 
 account for the delay, the guard stopped beside 
 her, and expressed the opinion that the weather 
 was wonderfully mild for the season. For him- 
 self, he found it pleasant. His only misgiving 
 was lest the crops should get too forward and 
 suffer consequent damage from late frosts. As 
 she drew nearer her destination, the station- 
 masters and the porters at the stations became 
 
 72
 
 The Spinster 
 
 familiar. They were men without restless ambi- 
 tions : they kept their positions, many of them, 
 for twenty, thirty, forty years. Mabel recognised 
 their faces and the way each cried out the name 
 of his station. It was never, in fact, the name, 
 but it was a sound which habitues of the line 
 readily understood as intended to indicate the 
 name. Thus, " Ab " ..." Ab " . . . " Ab " 
 was a source of no difficulty. Everybody, except 
 an occasional stranger, knew he had reached 
 " Offord Abbey." The long intervals between the 
 repetitions were occupied with organic but sound- 
 less efforts, on the part of the porter, to enunciate 
 the remainder of the name. The station next 
 before Blanford was Barnetby. This was a small 
 place divided into two parishes one on the hill 
 and one in the hollow. Whenever Mabel saw its 
 name on the lamps, as her train drew slowly to 
 a halt, an old rhyme started in her brain : 
 
 " Barnetby up and Barnetby down : 
 Ne'er a maid married in Barnetby town." 
 
 It was still running through her head when a 
 sudden darkening told her she had reached the 
 covered station at Blanford. The moment she got 
 down from her carriage, two little girls of about 
 twelve, suddenly spying her from the other end 
 of the platform, rushed at her and flung them- 
 selves into her arms. These were her nieces. 
 
 73
 
 The Spinster 
 
 When she could escape for a moment from their 
 ardent and clamorous manifestations of affection, 
 she turned to her brother, who had come up 
 slowly behind them. She was not sure if he would 
 kiss her he was not given to be demonstrative 
 of fraternal tenderness and held out her hand. 
 Having taken it, however, he bent forward, with 
 an effort, as it seemed, and touched her cheek 
 with his lips. 
 
 He was a man with somewhat pronounced 
 features, ginger hair, and thick ginger moustache, 
 pointed at the ends, clad in a heavy motor coat, 
 with leggings showing below it. His face was 
 creased about the eyes the work of his fourth 
 decade and was somewhat ruddy and roughened 
 by exposure, in the coverts and the hunting-field, 
 in all conditions of weather. 
 
 " Why, you look very well, Mabel," he said, 
 with a sporting heartiness of tone, honestly in- 
 tended, which struck, nevertheless, as slightly 
 artificial. " You've had a nice day for your 
 journey, and your train is very punctual. We 
 were only just here in time, were we, chips ?" 
 
 " How is mother ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 " She doesn't change much to the outward eye. 
 But you'll see her in a few minutes : the car is 
 outside. Come along, termagants." 
 
 They went out to the station yard, where the 
 head-lights of a large motor-car blazed at them in 
 
 74
 
 The Spinster 
 
 the early dusk of the winter afternoon. It was 
 a very short drive to the Dower House, which 
 stood in the middle of the town. Leaving the 
 children in the car, Hugh Cavour got out and 
 went into the house with his sister. He opened 
 a door on the left of the hall, and Mabel passed 
 through it in front of him. 
 
 She had entered a square room of medium size, 
 panelled to the ceiling. The furniture in it was 
 old-fashioned and handsome, but somewhat worn. 
 Heavy curtains were drawn across two high 
 windows which faced upon the street. 
 
 A frail little lady with very white hair was 
 seated in an armchair before the fire, sewing or 
 knitting by the light of a lamp which stood upon 
 the slightly faded cloth of a large round table. 
 She looked up as the door opened, and peered at 
 Mabel through her glasses in a dimly puzzled way. 
 
 " Mabel, my dear !" she said, taking off her 
 glasses and quietly replacing them in their case. 
 " It is. I thought it was." 
 
 " Didn't you know I was coming ?" asked 
 Mabel, going quickly up to her, as Mrs. Christo- 
 pherson rose. " Did nobody tell you, mother ?" 
 
 " Yes, Hugh did tell me. I remember. And 
 you told me yourself the last time you wrote. 
 My memory is so bad. I sometimes think I shall 
 forget my own name," she added in a sprightly 
 way, beginning to laugh. 
 
 75
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Did he tell you that I am going to stay at 
 home altogether now ?" asked Mabel, in a quiet 
 voice, looking at her mother affectionately. 
 
 " That's right, my dear," said Mrs. Christopher- 
 son. " You've been away too long. We miss 
 you in Blanford. The Canon was only saying to 
 me to-day no, yesterday that, next to your 
 mother, he knew no nicer woman. That's very 
 high praise, my dear, from the Canon." 
 
 All this time she had been holding Mabel's 
 hand and lightly stroking it. Now she thought 
 of kissing her. 
 
 Hugh Cavour, who had been standing on the 
 further side of the table during the conversation, 
 perceiving no reason for his continued presence, 
 turned to the door. 
 
 " Good-bye, Mabel," he said. " I must get 
 back to the car : the kids will be getting cold. 
 Come over to Caxton before long and see Clara." 
 
 It flashed into Mabel's mind, as he went out, 
 that some men, in his place, would have uttered 
 a word of thanks to her for coming. 
 
 " Dear me !" exclaimed Mrs. Christopherson, 
 " was that Hugh ? Do you know, I didn't know 
 he was in the room. Now, isn't that funny ?" 
 
 76
 
 Chapter V 
 
 THE little town of Blanf ord is laid out in the shape 
 of a Y. It is a perfect Y, save that, at the foot 
 of the fork, there is some protuberance caused by 
 the Market Place, which is no trifling Market 
 Place, no small square elevated to that title by a 
 town anxious to escape the imputation of being 
 a village, but a spacious, cobble-stoned, oblong, 
 commercial arena, overlooked by the Town Hall 
 and the Mermaid Hotel, and covered on market 
 days with stalls and pens of cattle and sheep. 
 Half-way along the right arm of the Y, facing 
 outwards, is a tall old house of mellow red brick, 
 flat-roofed, parapeted, and partly pebble-dashed. 
 It stands at right angles to the street, and is 
 divided from it by a row of neat iron railings and 
 a pair of iron gates. The end which fronts upon 
 the thoroughfare is semi-octagonal, with a high 
 sashed window in each of the facets. Two tall 
 Lombardy poplars stand in the garden close to 
 the street. If you follow the asphalt drive past 
 the front-door, you will come to the stable-yard, 
 and if you follow through the stable-yard, you 
 
 77
 
 The Spinster 
 
 will come out, by means of large double doors, 
 upon the street which forms the left arm of the Y. 
 From this it will be seen that the house in ques- 
 tion is one of no mean importance in the town 
 of Blanford. 
 
 It was here that Mabel had spent her childhood, 
 and it was here that she had now come to dwell, 
 so far as she could see, for the rest of her own or 
 of Mrs. Christopherson's natural life. It was 
 called the Dower House, not because the widow 
 of the naval commander lived there, but for the 
 reason, so far as Mabel was concerned, that has 
 refuge in the saying that " the memory of man 
 runneth not to the contrary." 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson accepted her daughter's 
 arrival quite as a matter of course, and had no 
 appreciation of the sacrifice she had made. She 
 did not regard herself, as Cavour had said, as an 
 invalid, and so she searched for no reason why 
 Mabel should have come, otherwise than from her 
 own choice. Blanford was her home ; it was also, 
 according to Mrs. Christopherson's estimate, a 
 pleasant place ; and she could particularly under- 
 stand its attraction, as a quiet backwater, after 
 the tidal force and foam of London. 
 
 It was not long, however, before Mabel, on her 
 part, perceived grievous signs that her mother's 
 hold on responsible vitality had indeed weakened 
 since she saw her last. Her fanatical zeal in 
 
 78
 
 The Spinster 
 
 religious observance was less marked than it 
 had been before ; but she was often vague and 
 aberrant in her manner and in her talk, and her 
 paroxysms of passion were sometimes almost 
 dangerously violent. The most persistent symp- 
 tom of her failing powers of mind was the delusion 
 that men were constantly falling victims to her 
 charms. Mabel knew of this, and she was not 
 surprised, therefore, on the evening of her arrival, 
 to be made a confidante. 
 
 They were seated in the small panelled sitting- 
 room she had first entered. With its bright fire 
 and its drawn maroon curtains, it was, as Mabel 
 had always thought, a cheerful and cosy room on 
 winter nights. 
 
 " Mabel, my dear," said Mrs. Christopherson, 
 somewhat impressively, looking up from her work 
 after an interval of silence, " there is a subject 
 about which I think I ought to talk to you. Dr. 
 Deas has been coming here very often of late, 
 almost daily. I don't pretend ignorance of his 
 motives. That would be foolish. I know that 
 in a very short time he will ask me an important 
 question." Mrs. Christopherson took up her work 
 and made a few stitches. Her daughter said 
 nothing, and so she continued : " I have thought 
 about it a great deal, and I have decided not to 
 accept. Don't misunderstand me. I admire him 
 he is a nice man, a thoughtful, noble-minded 
 
 79
 
 The Spinster 
 
 man, and clever in his profession but I don't 
 feel for him that deeper love which I have always 
 felt should be present before such a step is taken. 
 I tell you this so that you should understand the 
 reason if his visits suddenly cease, and should 
 not pain him by asking questions." She dropped 
 her eyes to her work with a certain air of feminine 
 consciousness. After a few moments, she added : 
 " Dr. Deas is a man who would make any woman 
 a good husband." 
 
 ' You are quite right, mother," said Mabel. 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson misunderstood her. She 
 was on her metal at once. " Oh, don't think for 
 a moment don't think for a moment that he has 
 eyes, at present, for anyone else. If you have 
 come back from London with any such thought 
 in your mind, it will lead to disappointment, and 
 it is only kind to tell you so." 
 
 Mabel realised that a tactless remark here 
 would be very dangerous to express, on the one 
 hand, her ludicrous sense of her mother's sugges- 
 tion, or, on the other, too high an appreciation of 
 Dr. Deas' virtues. 
 
 " I've never thought of that at all," she said 
 simply. " I meant that I thought you were right 
 in what you had decided about yourself." 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson was appeased. Three times 
 more she covered the same ground in slightly 
 varying words, and each time Mabel agreed with 
 
 80
 
 The Spinster 
 
 her that she had come to a right decision. She 
 was conscious that her mother was expecting her 
 to say something in recognition of the charms 
 which had brought such a man as Dr. Deas to her 
 feet. Mabel knew that it would be a mistake to 
 do so, and kept herself studiously to quietly sym- 
 pathetic rejoinders. A little before ten Mrs. 
 Christopherson, evidently slightly hipped, went 
 to bed. 
 
 Mabel saw her to her room, which was reached 
 through her own, and then returned to the fire. 
 She took up a book and began reading it, but soon 
 let it fall on her lap. Ten minutes later she again 
 picked it up, and went on reading steadily, almost 
 grimly. In the interval she had made up her 
 mind, finally and for ever, that in no conceivable 
 circumstances would Horace Register marry again. 
 
 The next day, about noon, Dr. Deas called. 
 Under the guise of friendly calls, he kept a pro- 
 fessional watch on Mrs. Christopherson thought- 
 fulness which, as has been seen, the poor lady 
 flagrantly misinterpreted. He greeted Mabel 
 with somewhat ponderous heartiness, and then 
 lowered himself slowly into the biggest armchair, 
 with a heavy pant. 
 
 " And how are we to-day ?" he asked, when he 
 had exhaled a further breath, looking across at 
 Mrs. Christopherson with the familiar interest of 
 an old friend. 
 
 81 F
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabel had noticed that her mother had drawn 
 herself up in her chair, and was now demurely 
 preened and evidently prepared to lend an atten- 
 tive ear to the words of wisdom that might be 
 expected to fall from her visitor. 
 
 " As well as I am every day," she answered in 
 a sprightly voice. " I never ail anything you 
 know that. And, if I did, I should soon be well 
 again in such good care as there is in Blanford." 
 She felt she was neatly getting in a piece of subtle 
 flattery. 
 
 It was not too bald for Dr. Deas. " Well, well, 
 we should all do our best," he said, passing the 
 palms of his hands affectionately over his expan- 
 sive waistcoat. 
 
 " Mabel," said Mrs. Christopherson, " Dr. Deas 
 will have a glass of cherry brandy. " No, no " 
 lifting her hand with playful deprecation as the 
 doctor prepared to speak " you must allow 
 yourself to be persuaded. You have had a long 
 drive in the country, and a glass may just ward 
 off a chill." 
 
 Dr. Deas allowed himself to be persuaded. 
 
 " Very excellent cherry brandy," he said, can- 
 didly smacking his lips after emptying half a port- 
 glass. " That was not brewed yesterday." 
 
 It was by no means the first time he had made 
 the same remark. There is no need to asperse 
 his disinterestedness in making these friendly 
 
 82
 
 The Spinster 
 
 visits, if it is admitted that it did, in fact, dwell 
 in his mind with satisfaction, as he approached 
 the house, that the widow of the Commander had 
 usually in her sideboard a decanter of particu- 
 larly good cherry brandy. 
 
 " Dear me, no indeed !" said Mrs. Christopher- 
 son. " It must have been in the cellar here how 
 long, Mabel ? your father bought it soon after 
 we were married nearly forty years. How time 
 flies, to be sure !" 
 
 " It's almost as soft as a port," said the doctor, 
 emptying the glass. 
 
 With Dr. Deas it was a question of time merely 
 before any conversation in which he had a part 
 was brought round to the subject of port. By 
 insidious means he was able to induce the most 
 unlikely people people whom less sanguine 
 natures would have considered hopelessly un- 
 congenial to such a theme to discuss this absorb- 
 ing topic. Such unpromising subjects, indeed, he 
 preferred, for their ignorance enabled him to be 
 expansive and informative. Mrs. Christopherson 
 was not in touch with the matter of debate, but 
 she gave a ready ear, and for the next twenty 
 minutes the talk was of vintages and shippers, 
 and the varying mellow merits of the brands of 
 the Portuguese wine possessed by the families 
 of the neighbourhood. 
 
 Whether or not it was that this method of love- 
 83
 
 The Spinster 
 
 making failed entirely to please Mrs. Christopher- 
 son at any rate, she made a scene that day at 
 lunch. She had given signs of being rasped and 
 irritated from the beginning of the meal, and Mabel 
 had been watching her anxiously. The climax 
 came when she was handed a dish of potatoes. 
 
 " Hold it closer," she said sharply to the maid. 
 " Do you think I can stretch a mile ?" 
 
 The nervous maid, knowing evidently what this 
 tone might portend, in her over-concern to avoid 
 provoking a storm of anger, pushed the dish 
 almost completely over her mistress's plate. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Chris- 
 topherson knocked it violently upward, spilling 
 the potatoes over the floor and her own dress. 
 
 " Now, you idiot, see what you've done !" she 
 shouted to the frightened maid. 
 
 " I don't think it was her fault, mother," said 
 Mabel, intervening gently. 
 
 " I tell you it was. Don't talk to me. I tell 
 you it was, Mabel." She was becoming pink with 
 gathering passion. 
 
 Mabel signed to the maid to leave the room, 
 and the latter was perhaps unnecessarily prompt 
 in her obedience. 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson turned furiously on her 
 daughter. " Why have you sent her out ? What 
 right have you to send her out ? I won't have, 
 you coming here, interfering in my house." 
 
 84
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " She has only gone for a tray and brush," said 
 Mabel, getting up and pretending to be concerned 
 with the fallen potatoes. 
 
 But Mrs. Christopherson, by this time, was out 
 of control. " You come here," she shouted, 
 " where nobody wants you, meddling and inter- 
 fering, and thinking Dr. Deas is in love with you. 
 As if anybody would be in love with you ! You 
 can't get a husband of any kind, you ugly scrag, 
 fish as you will fish as you will !" she shrieked. 
 
 " Mother, please !" said Mabel, looking up. 
 
 " Don't ' Mother ' me. Get out of my house. 
 Go and fend for yourself. I loathe the sight of 
 you." And, in a flash, she seized the nearest 
 object which happened to be a salt-cellar and 
 flung it at her daughter. 
 
 " Oh, mother /" cried Mabel, not in indignation, 
 not in protest, but in dismay. 
 
 Stemmed for a moment by the tone, Mrs. Chris- 
 topherson stayed her hand on its way to another 
 projectile. 
 
 " Don't you know," said Mabel, with a look of 
 consternation, " how unlucky it is to spill the 
 salt ?" 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson was very superstitious. 
 As her mind slowly apprehended the words, there 
 gathered over her face a look of consternation 
 more vivid than that on her daughter's. She 
 forgot about her anger, dropped on her knees, 
 
 35
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and began frantically to throw the spilled salt 
 over both shoulders with both hands. 
 
 " Which shoulder, Mabel ? I've forgotten 
 and which hand ?" she cried feverishly. 
 
 Such outbreaks as this followed almost daily, 
 and it needed all Mabel's tact and knowledge and 
 patience to cope with them. She found the affairs 
 of the house, too, in a very disorganised condi- 
 tion. The housekeeper had consented to stay 
 only pending her arrival by noon on the next 
 day she had taken herself away and all the three 
 maids had given notice to leave. Mabel managed 
 to placate two of them. The third she replaced, 
 with difficulty, and at a high wage, for Mrs. Chris- 
 topherson's peculiarities were becoming tolerably 
 well known in the district. 
 
 Besides these household affairs, she found the 
 conduct of her mother's social life a matter of 
 considerable delicacy. The latter was fond of 
 meeting and of talking to people, and showed no 
 disposition to neglect the opportunities of doing 
 so which came her way, but there was no surety 
 that she would not lose hold of herself at an after- 
 noon party, or even in the middle of a dinner. 
 She was fond of whist and of bridge, but she had 
 made such scenes at card-tables that it was im- 
 possible to allow her to play. Mabel took her to 
 concerts and similar entertainments, where there 
 was nothing to excite her and little opportunity 
 
 86
 
 The Spinster 
 
 of talking, but after one exacting experience she 
 declined to let her go to evening parties, and 
 quietly bore the brunt of her tumultuous anger in 
 consequence. She countermanded an accepted 
 invitation on the score of her mother's health. 
 
 'Tou are not to go, mother," she said plainly, 
 when the evening arrived, " because you can't 
 keep your temper, and that is not only very 
 trying for me, but for everybody else in the room." 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson worked herself at once to 
 a white fury, stormed, reviled, ordered her out 
 of the house, pealed the bell (which, under Mabel's 
 instructions, was not answered), rushed to the 
 door (which was locked), finally turned on her 
 daughter, like a mad thing, with her nails. Mabel 
 protected herself, but no more ; she made no 
 retorts ; she knew there was nothing to be done 
 but to allow the storm to wear itself through. In 
 the end, Mrs. Christopherson, finding herself 
 helpless, was obliged to cease her execrations 
 from pure physical exhaustion, and sank stub- 
 bornly into a chair. The rest of the evening was 
 occupied by minute, exquisitely calculated ap- 
 proaches, on the part of Mabel, to win her back. 
 It was hard work, and took hours ; but, before 
 she went to bed that night, Mrs. Christopherson 
 allowed her to kiss her. 
 
 In this way she gradually acquired some control 
 over her, and was able to extend the scope of her 
 
 87
 
 The Spinster 
 
 social amusements. Among other things, they 
 went to a private sale of work held by Miss 
 Davison, the sister of the mild attorney, assisted 
 by the two Miss Colbecks, slightly sentimental 
 young women and great admirers of the Canon. 
 Blanford, in fact, had a good many spinsters who 
 had failed to "go off," and Mabel knew that by 
 returning there in her maiden state she was neces- 
 sarily included among the number. They were 
 the women who had been on approval for some 
 time that was the Blanford feeling and had 
 failed to find purchasers. Mabel could hear the 
 matrons talking about her in their drawing-rooms : 
 " I hear Mabel Christopherson has come back. . . . 
 She doesn't go off. . . . She is a nice woman 
 too." 
 
 As they were walking through the Market Place 
 on their way to the sale of work, they met a 
 fashionably-dressed woman, who smiled recog- 
 nition when she saw them approaching. This 
 was Clara Cavour, Mabel's sister-in-law. It was 
 characteristic of her that, though she had only 
 once troubled to go and see her husband's sister 
 since her arrival, she was apparently genuinely 
 glad to meet her now that accident had thrown 
 her across her path. 
 
 " How are you ?" she said with great hearti- 
 ness, in a somewhat loud and broadly-toned voice. 
 
 It was difficult for her relatives to deny that
 
 The Spinster 
 
 there was at least a tincture of something vulgar 
 about Clara Cavour. She was a handsome 
 woman, with a fine figure, which she clothed to 
 perfection. Always active and always idle, she 
 lived frankly for herself, for clothes, bridge, 
 dancing, skating, motoring, riding, golf, for any- 
 thing which could serve to keep her for the 
 moment pleasantly occupied. She consented to 
 accept this neighbourhood for her abode on the 
 condition that her husband took her with periodic 
 regularity to London and abroad ; and, since 
 Hugh Cavour's inclinations lay in the same direc- 
 tion, it was not difficult for him to accommodate 
 her in that respect. Accordingly, Clara regarded 
 herself so far as the Blanford district was con- 
 cerned as an exotic, who occasionally visited 
 with interest " the queer old place," and not as 
 a permanent resident. 
 
 " We are going to Miss Davison's sale of work," 
 said Mabel. " Will you come with us ?" 
 
 Clare gave a characteristic laugh, which was 
 not unkindly, but rather amused. " Oh, my 
 dear," she said, " I'm trying to buy a tiny bit of 
 gold passementerie to put on an old dinner gown, 
 and it seems to be impossible I might be asking 
 for the moon." 
 
 " Well, come to tea ?" said Mabel. " We shall 
 only be an hour at the Davisons', shall we, 
 mother ?" 
 
 89
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " My dear, I'd love to." Clara used the phrase 
 " my dear " mechanically, by habit, and its in- 
 advertent issue from her lips was the cause of 
 many a jovial passage with her male friends. 
 " But I'm due for bridge with the Dennisons of 
 Kidbythorpe at half -past five." 
 
 ' You're getting stouter, Clara," said Mrs. 
 Christopherson placidly. " You ought to be 
 careful to keep your nice figure." 
 
 Clara laughed good-naturedly, and pressed her 
 hands down her hips, as if by that means to com- 
 press them. " You know, I've been awfully 
 afraid of it for some time," she said. " I haven't 
 been taking much exercise lately. I ought to 
 take more. Come and play golf with me, Mabel. 
 I'll send the car and we'll go to Stainton." 
 
 " I haven't played for so long," said Mabel. 
 
 " Never mind neither have I. It will be fun. 
 Let me see ? Tuesday at ten ? Will that do ?" 
 
 " Yes, if " By the faintest sign Mabel 
 
 indicated her mother. 
 
 Clara understood. " All right, then. That's 
 settled. Good-bye. I hope you'll like the sale 
 of work." 
 
 She smiled to them both, and hurried on in 
 further search of her gold passementerie. 
 
 There was a large gathering of the feminine in- 
 habitants of Blanford in Miss Davison's drawing- 
 room, and when the Christophersons had been 
 
 90
 
 The Spinster 
 
 there about half an hour it was augmented by 
 one representative of the other sex. This was 
 the Canon himself. Since Miss Davison's sale 
 was held for the purpose of raising funds to 
 supply a new set of kneeling-mats to the church, 
 it became him to put in an appearance. Upon his 
 entrance, the babble of conversation perceptibly 
 diminished ; it did not cease, but it perceptibly 
 diminished. 
 
 He was a squarely built man of medium height, 
 with a full grizzled beard and heavy eyebrows. 
 He walked very quietly, deliberately, and gently, 
 treading as if afraid he might damage the floor, 
 with a slight spring on each step. Having greeted 
 his hostess, he shook hands with such of the other 
 ladies as were in her immediate neighbourhood at 
 the moment, and then inquired of Miss Davison 
 how the sale was getting on. 
 
 " Oh, very nicely, Canon Carson very nicely 
 indeed," said that lady volubly. " I think we 
 ought to make twenty pounds. Won't you have 
 some tea ?" She was a well-intentioned woman 
 of somewhat heavy build, to whom Providence 
 had denied imagination, and she was candidly 
 delighted to have an opportunity of talking to 
 the Canon. 
 
 The Canon, however, did not think that she 
 could tell him anything he did not know, and so 
 he undertook to talk himself not to her indi-
 
 The Spinster 
 
 vidually, but at large. Standing with his back 
 to the fireplace, with his cup in his hand, he spoke 
 in a measured voice, with his eyes partly closed, 
 looking at no one in particular. All the ladies 
 who chanced to be near him waited on his words. 
 Others from outlying parts approached quietly 
 and discreetly within hearing distance. When he 
 paused, they made short and obvious comments, 
 which did not necessarily reveal their sentiments, 
 but were dictated by the polite desire to speak that 
 which would be pleasing to the ear of their pastor. 
 
 Rather a delicious scandal had recently been 
 occupying the drawing-rooms at Blanford. A 
 young woman who, among her other attributes, 
 was very good-looking had recently been intro- 
 duced to the town as a teacher in the schools, and 
 during the last few weeks she had been seen more 
 than once by independent witnesses in the com- 
 pany of a married man a married man, too, who 
 was in a superior station of life. The piquancy 
 of the scandal came from the fact that the man 
 moved in the social circle of the best people in 
 Blanford, and was personally known to these 
 ladies at the sale of work. 
 
 " I have felt obliged to dismiss her," said the 
 Canon, referring to this subject, softly and 
 solemnly, raising his chin till his beard approached 
 the horizontal. " We should not be quick to 
 judge or to think evil." He drew a deep breath 
 
 92
 
 The Spinster 
 
 with characteristic deliberation, which suggested 
 a sense that his words were weighed. " I shall not 
 think it necessary to make it impossible for her to 
 obtain work elsewhere, but it is important that 
 those to whom is assigned the delicate duty of in- 
 structing the young should not place themselves in 
 a position which can be open to misconstruction." 
 
 " I quite agree with you," said several ladies 
 together, in the same softly grave tones that he 
 had used himself. 
 
 " She should be torn in pieces !" suddenly burst 
 out Mrs. Christopherson in a loud voice ; " she 
 should be torn in pieces and thrown to the dogs !" 
 
 The Canon, overcoming momentary surprise 
 at this bombshell, turned to her with his cus- 
 tomary quiet and suave demeanour. " I can 
 sympathise with your indignation," he said in a 
 mollifying voice, " if there were anything definite 
 against her. But for the facts as we know them," 
 he added, in a perfectly grave and slightly de- 
 tached tone of necessary inquiry, " is not your 
 sentence somewhat severe ?" 
 
 Mabel, who was sitting at the farther end of 
 the room, had heard her mother's raised voice 
 with alarm. She knew the portents of her 
 paroxysms of passion, and she thought she knew 
 in general the circumstances which were liable to 
 provoke them. She learnt for the first time, how- 
 ever somewhat to her astonishment that the 
 
 93
 
 The Spinster 
 
 subject the Canon had been discussing was among 
 them. Forcing herself to sit still, she waited, 
 during several seconds, in tense suspense, fearing 
 further and more violent diatribes of her feverish 
 mind and unbridled tongue. Apparently the 
 vicar's words had served, for the moment, their 
 purpose a considerable feat, had he known it 
 for Mrs. Christopherson's shrill voice did not im- 
 mediately break again upon the suddenly hushed 
 room. Conversation was resumed ; and presently 
 the Canon left his place by the fire and came in 
 her direction. He did not come to her directly ; 
 he approached by degrees, speaking to several 
 other people on the way, but she felt that she was 
 his object. 
 
 His quiet step brought him to her side. With- 
 out looking at her, and with his hands folded, he 
 bent a little. " I think it would be well," he 
 said, dropping his lids as if to think, " if you could 
 get Mrs. Christopherson home. She is becoming 
 a little a little excited." 
 
 He passed on, and Mabel took the course which 
 in any case she would have taken. She went to 
 her mother. 
 
 " Don't you think we had better go home, 
 mother ?" she said. " We've spent all our 
 money, and I think it is beginning to rain." 
 
 To her relief, Mrs. Christopherson agreed quite 
 meekly. When they reached the hall of the 
 
 94
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Dower House, her heart gave a little leap, then 
 stopped and ran on again. On the ledge of an 
 old oak cabinet there was a letter addressed to 
 her a letter for which, though she had not 
 admitted it to herself, she had been watching and 
 waiting for nearly three weeks. She forced her- 
 self to let it remain there, went upstairs with her 
 mother, and opened, examined, and discussed 
 with her, their purchases. Then she took off her 
 hat and coat and gloves, with hasty fingers that 
 trembled a very little, and returned downstairs 
 to her letter. 
 
 After coming to Blanford, she had made up 
 her mind very firmly that she would not write to 
 Register until she received a letter from him. 
 Then she remembered he had not her address. 
 So, when she had been at home a fortnight, she 
 wrote a fortnight was the time she made herself 
 wait, so that he should see she was not in any 
 particular haste : 
 
 " DEAR MR. REGISTER, 
 
 ' You said you would like to write to me, 
 didn't you ? And now I remember I didn't leave 
 you my address. Well, you see it now, so please 
 keep your promise as well as you kept another 
 much longer one. I shall be glad to hear some- 
 thing of what is going on in London. This is a 
 very quiet place, full of all sorts of odds and ends 
 
 95
 
 The Spinster 
 
 of human documents. It has suddenly made me 
 laugh to imagine what you would make of it, and 
 what it would make of you ! 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " MABEL CHRISTOPHERSON.' 
 
 Now, after waiting this all but three weeks, 
 had come his reply. She took it into the little 
 panelled sitting-room and read it, sitting before 
 the fire : 
 
 " DEAR MABEL CHRISTOPHERSON, 
 
 " I have not yet been placed among the 
 elect who are allowed to use your isolated first 
 name, and I feel I know you far too well to use 
 unrelieved your formal second, so the above fine 
 idea of combining the two has occurred to me. 
 It represents, I flatter myself, fairly accurately 
 my present station in your friendship, though 
 not, I must hope, my eventual one. 
 
 " What is the good of asking me how things 
 are going in London ? Of course I am deso- 
 lated. If only I could find someone to skate 
 with, I might manage to keep my heart up, but 
 I can only find people to teach. Teaching to 
 skate has possibilities, no doubt. But I'm getting 
 too old for possibilities, don't you think ? 
 
 " I try to give my drooping spirits a fillip at 
 times with the recollection of some evenings here 
 
 96
 
 The Spinster 
 
 in which you had a share, and with the hope that 
 Fortune, who has sometimes been kind to me, 
 may still hold others like them in her lap. 
 
 " I can't write, as I warned you. I'm no good 
 at news. But you can. So send me a letter, 
 please, a good deal longer than its immediate 
 predecessor, and give me a side-thought now and 
 then amidst the revelries of Blanford. 
 
 " Kind wishes and remembrances always. 
 " Ever sincerely yours, 
 
 " HORACE REGISTER." 
 
 Mabel told herself she was a fool not once, 
 but repeatedly. He was laughing all through his 
 letter. But that night she slept with it under 
 her pillow. 
 
 97
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 AT Easter, to Mabel's joy, Andie came for a few 
 days to the Dower House. He caught sight of 
 her on the platform as his train ran into the 
 station, and waved his hand. The moment it 
 stopped, he jumped down, dragging a bag behind 
 him and laughing cheerfully as she came to meet 
 him. His face sent a glow of sunshine, not only 
 into her heart, but also, as it seemed to her, into 
 the whole atmosphere. 
 
 " Hello, Mabs 1" he exclaimed, as he came up 
 to her. He took hold of her and kissed her, still 
 clutching the bag with his other hand. 
 
 " You dear boy," said Mabel ; "I am so glad 
 to see you again." And, in her turn, she kissed 
 him. 
 
 " How about my bag ?" said Andie. " Where's 
 Eastman ? He'll bring it up." 
 
 " How are you, sir ?" said that worthy, who 
 was a porter, grinning with pleasure and semi- 
 diffident recognition, touching his cap. 
 
 " All right, thank you, Eastman," said Andie, 
 " cheerful as ever, in spite of the weather." 
 
 98
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " It must be desperately dull for you down 
 here," he said to Mabel, as they walked out of 
 the station. 
 
 " It's not particularly lively," she admitted, 
 " but I'm getting used to it. I suppose I ought 
 not to want or to expect much liveliness at my 
 time of life." 
 
 " How old are you, Mabs ?" asked Andie sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " Thirty-seven." 
 
 He laughed. " That's no age. I think it was 
 jolly good of you to come. You had to give up 
 your nursing to do it, and leave the future to 
 take care of itself." 
 
 ' There was no one else," said Mabel. 
 
 " I know. That's why you did us all such a 
 good turn. It used to be a shocking mix-up when 
 Mrs. Taylor was here. How is she ?" 
 
 " Mother ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " She is still very uncertain," said Mabel ; " I 
 don't think she'll ever get much better." 
 
 ' Yes ; but the awful thing is, is she likely to 
 get any worse ?" 
 
 " It's very hard indeed to say. Her physical 
 health is so good, and that in one sense is against 
 her. I hope she won't. I find I can control her 
 now better than I could. One has to be firm with 
 her." 
 
 99
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " I suppose she knows people all right still ?" 
 
 " Oh yes. Oh, she's quite sane, Andie. Only 
 she gets confused sometimes, and imagines things, 
 and, of course, her violent temper " t 
 
 They reached the house, and went into the 
 small panelled room, where Mrs. Christopherson 
 was sitting working before the fire, just as she had 
 been on the day Mabel arrived. 
 
 " Here I am, mother !" said Andie in his cheer- 
 ful way, going up to her. " How well you 
 look !" 
 
 " Yes ; I never ail anything, Andie," she said, 
 " I'm thankful to say." 
 
 " You've not changed since I can remember 
 you. I believe you'll be here in another twenty 
 years, looking just the same." 
 
 " I'm not an old woman, Andie," she said 
 sharply. 
 
 Mabel looked at him. 
 
 " Of course I know that," he replied jovially. 
 " You know you never could see a joke, mother," 
 he added, smiling. 
 
 " I've got a very keen sense of humour," she 
 retorted in the same tone. 
 
 Andie was beginning to feel rather hot. " As if 
 I didn't know that !" he answered. A step 
 on the asphalt drive relieved him. " There's 
 Eastman with my bag. I'd better go and pay 
 him." 
 
 100
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " The boy hasn't improved, Mabel," said Mrs. 
 Christopherson, before the door had closed behind 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, he doesn't mean it, mother," said Mabel, 
 affecting to be engaged with the fire. " He's 
 always joking." 
 
 " Don't talk to me. I say he hasn't im- 
 proved." 
 
 Mabel made no response for two or three 
 seconds. Then she said : " I've put him in 
 the large top room where he always used to 
 sleep. Or would you rather he was in the spare 
 room ?" 
 
 " I say he hasn't improved," reiterated Mrs. 
 Christopherson with emphasis. 
 
 Mabel did not intend to agree with her, even at 
 the cost of a scene. An inspiration flashed into 
 her mind. " I saw Dr. Deas just as we came in," 
 she said. " He sent you a message." That was 
 distinctly a fib, but the circumstances took it off 
 her conscience. 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson changed at once to quick 
 interest. " What was it ?" she asked. 
 
 " He asked if you would care to go and see the 
 tulips and daffs in his garden before they fade. 
 He says they are really a sight." 
 
 " How thoughtful !" said Mrs. Christopherson, 
 in her pleasantest tones. " He is always so 
 thoughtful. Of course I will go. I'll write at 
 
 101
 
 The Spinster 
 
 once." She got up, smiling, and went to her 
 desk. 
 
 The situation was saved. But it would mean, 
 Mabel recognised with a small grimace behind 
 her mother's back, a walk for her after dinner to 
 Dr. Deas's house with the note and an explana- 
 tion. 
 
 That night, when Mrs. Christopherson had gone 
 to bed, Mabel drew up her chair before the fire, 
 and Andie drew up his beside her, just as they 
 had been accustomed to do in his rooms in 
 London. 
 
 " Now tell me about Kathleen," said Mabel. 
 
 " I think I shall have to stop going there," said 
 Andie. " It's getting rather distracting, and my 
 exam comes off in September." 
 
 " How often do you go ?" asked his sister. 
 
 " About once a week, sometimes twice." 
 
 " To dinner ?" 
 
 " Sometimes to dinner, but generally to lunch 
 on Sundays. They are awfully kind, all of them, 
 and they think it's lonely in rooms. So it is, but 
 then I ought to be reading." 
 
 " Tell me honestly," said Mabel, looking at him, 
 " you do like her a little ?" 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " And I think she likes you a little. I don't 
 see why it shouldn't be all right when you have 
 got through your Final and have a practice." 
 102
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " When ?" repeated Andie, with rather comic 
 hopelessness. 
 
 " Well, you only have to work to be sure to pass 
 the Final, and then you are fully qualified/' 
 
 " Yes, that's all right ; but the best, after that, 
 is a managing clerkship at a hundred and twenty 
 a year for a good many years. You can't run a 
 wife on a hundred and twenty a year, can you, 
 even if I get it ?" 
 
 " It would be a little narrow," admitted Mabs. 
 " You wouldn't be able to give her a motor- 
 car." 
 
 " Isn't it silly ?" Andie suddenly began to 
 laugh. 
 
 ' You don't really feel like laughing, Andie." 
 
 " It's the only thing to do," said Andie. 
 
 ' There's another thing : with my going so often, 
 
 do you think they will begin to expect things ? 
 
 They've been so awfully decent, it would be 
 
 horrible if they did." 
 
 " That's not likely," said Mabel ; " they 
 know your position. Certainly Mrs. McCormick 
 wouldn't, and she is the only one I know. Still, 
 I think, if I were you, I should try to manage not 
 to go quite so much until you are through the 
 Final. Your reading is a very good reason. I 
 don't think you would lose anything. I haven't 
 much doubt that she cares quite enough to be able 
 to wait." 
 
 103
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Even without my saying anything ?" asked 
 Andie urgently. 
 
 " Yes, even without that. She will under- 
 stand." 
 
 " Then I will, Mabs. I mean, I'll stop going ^o 
 often. I promise you." 
 
 He got up, whistling, and began to search for 
 his pipe. Mabel did not know whether to be glad 
 for him or sorry for him. She felt that Kathleen 
 would manage to marry him somehow, some time. 
 She had struck her as a girl who would see that 
 she got her own way, and she did not question 
 that she was very much in love, probably much 
 more in love than Andie was. In every love- 
 affair, it may be noticed, according to the respec- 
 tive families, it is always the other side which is 
 far the more deeply engaged. 
 
 If Andie thought that the subject of this con- 
 versation represented the only respect in which he 
 was faced by the matrimonial problem, he was 
 soon to be disillusioned. At Blanford it was the 
 custom of the inhabitants, after morning service 
 on Sundays, to walk along the Rieby Road. 
 Carrying their prayer-books, they walked slowly 
 as far as the fork of the road, where the concrete 
 path ceases. It was not a pretty walk, and the 
 items of local interest passed on the way did not 
 make it an inspiriting one. On the left, just 
 after leaving the town, was the Union work- 
 
 104
 
 The Spinster 
 
 house ; and a little further, on the right, was the 
 cemetery. 
 
 On the Sunday after Andie's arrival Easter 
 Sunday when the crowd which issued from the 
 church had spread out, he found himself walking 
 with the elder Miss Colbeck the same who had 
 assisted at Miss Davison's sale. He did not know 
 that this was an arrangement preconceived and 
 carried out with the complicity of the younger 
 Miss Colbeck, who was now fifty yards behind, 
 with Mabel and Dr. Deas. Behind them again, 
 in the middle distance, were the bank manager 
 and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Quirk. 
 
 Andie, glancing over his shoulder when the 
 suspicion of his own isolated position as the squire 
 of Carrie Colbeck broke upon his mind, recognised 
 the latter pair from their relative heights. For, 
 though he made the most of his small stature by 
 holding himself very upright, you could not, in 
 the middle distance, when dressed, as he now was, 
 in his frock-coat, see much of Mr. Quirk. He 
 was not, as may be assumed, a great believer in 
 church-going, but his wife had other views, and 
 he attended morning service for domestic reasons. 
 Afterwards he joined the country promenade, 
 because, as he pointed out to those whom he met, 
 he did not like the smell of roast beef while 
 it was being cooked ; he preferred to become 
 conscious of it for the first time when it was 
 
 105
 
 The Spinster 
 
 placed in front of him, garnished with horse-radish. 
 
 Carrie Colbeck was slightly angular and very 
 sentimental. In his earlier days, before he ^ent 
 to London, Andie had paid a certain amount of 
 light flirtatious attention to her ; but that was a 
 small paragraph in his history which he had now 
 forgotten. It was otherwise with Carrie. She 
 opened her attack by adopting a sinking and 
 afflicted mien. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked Andie. " You 
 are feeling all right, aren't you ?" 
 
 " I don't know," replied Carrie. She looked 
 up at him, and then she looked down again. " I 
 don't know if my heart is all right." 
 
 Andie already had a vague, damping presenti- 
 ment of the worst. But he attempted to laugh 
 it off. " Oh, everybody doubts that," he said. 
 ' You know the story of the man who read a 
 medical book, and found he had got everything 
 except housemaid's knee." 
 
 But Carrie was not to be put off by small shot 
 of that kind. She did not smile. " It's not 
 physical," she said, this time keeping her eyes 
 downcast all the time, while the suspicion of a 
 flush appeared on the cheek which Andie could 
 see ; " it's the emotions, the feelings." 
 
 The tale was out. Andie saw that he would 
 have to face the music ; there was no way of 
 avoiding it in all that uncompromising road. He 
 106
 
 The Spinster 
 
 turned hot in every part of him, and looked 
 round helplessly for assistance. If only, by some 
 shift less than shouting, he could get Mabel to 
 come up ! She would come up quickly enough 
 if she knew his straits. But she was still some 
 distance behind, talking to Dr. Deas. He could 
 not conceive what she could have to say to him. 
 They must by this time have exhausted old port. 
 Desperately conscious of the corner he was in 
 of Carrie's illimitable and irrepressible capacity 
 to say things though he was not given to pro- 
 fanity, he swore beneath his breath. 
 
 " Oh, you shouldn't !" he stammered. " That 
 sort of thing is the result of living down here. 
 And if you once give way to it, it grows on you," 
 he went on, talking hurriedly and heedlessly, for 
 the mere sake of making words. " You should 
 try and get Mr. Colbeck to let you come up to 
 London. If you'll put it off till I'm through the 
 Final, I'll try and show you some of the sights. 
 Have you ever been to the Tower ? . . . Or 
 Madame Tussaud's ?" he added on a desperate 
 afterthought, seeing that he had failed to in- 
 terest her, and that she was about to revert to 
 the previous question. 
 
 But Carrie was not interested just now even 
 in waxworks. " You know this is Leap Year, 
 Andie ?" she asked, looking up at him with her 
 plaintive soul in her eyes. 
 
 107
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Andie, still searching his mind desperately for 
 a means of escape, admitted in a weak voice that 
 he did know it, now that she mentioned il^ 
 
 Relentlessly, Carrie discharged the bombshell, 
 again looking down and again softly colouring. 
 " And you know you have made me love you ?" 
 
 That was the most uncomfortable moment of 
 Andie's life. Ever afterwards he remembered 
 the exact spot on the Rieby Road where Carrie had 
 said she loved him. 
 
 He never knew quite what he did. He mut- 
 tered something about " Mabs calling," and 
 turned round helplessly, sensible of nothing but 
 a fervid desire to disappear completely from the 
 earth's surface. Then, at last, he saw Mabel 
 coming on more quickly. The doctor followed 
 as briskly as his short steps would carry his 
 massive form. 
 
 As his sister came up, he managed to find im- 
 pudence to say casually : " What are you hurry- 
 ing about, Mabs ?" 
 
 " I thought you wanted me ?" 
 
 " Well, it's about time we were getting back, 
 isn't it ?" 
 
 " It's only half-past twelve ; but just as you 
 like I'm quite willing." 
 
 Then the doctor came up, and Carrie's sister, 
 and then the Quirks. They made a group in 
 the road, and all of them had a dim feeling that 
 108
 
 The Spinster 
 
 something was the matter with Andie. Quirk, 
 however, kindly began to talk, as was his wont 
 when an audience had assembled. 
 
 Drawing up his small form, he put one hand 
 in his pocket, and raised the nose of David to- 
 wards the Goliath of a doctor. " By the way, 
 Deas, what I've been thinking just now is this : 
 I think we ought to have something done about 
 the Union. I don't think the conditions there 
 are at all satisfactory. After all, these poor folk 
 have got their sensibilities, the same as we have ; 
 and they've committed no crime ; the only 
 crime they've committed, according to our 
 notions, apparently, is being born. Think what 
 their lives have been day to day, week to week, 
 month to month, year to year, plodding on. And 
 then, when they come to us and say they've done 
 their work for us and are too old to do any more, 
 what do we do ? We cast them into that." He 
 raised his hand somewhat dramatically in the 
 direction of the workhouse. 
 
 While he was taking breath for another effort, 
 Andie, who had managed, during this oration, 
 to manoeuvre him between himself and Carrie, 
 slipped away with Mabel. 
 
 " What was the matter ?" said she, when they 
 got out of earshot. 
 
 " Oh, nothing !" he replied. " I thought you 
 might like a diversion, that's all." 
 
 109
 
 The Spinster 
 
 As he walked home he wondered if Carrie 
 would propose to Deas. 
 
 Two days later he returned to London, and 
 Mabel once more was left to her old life at the 
 Dower House ordering the household affairs, 
 mollifying the servants, appeasing, managing, 
 coaxing, conquering her mother. Her only relief 
 lay in Horace Register's occasional letters and 
 her occasional replies replies which she studi- 
 ously kept from the post for the intervals of a 
 fortnight she had originally set herself, though 
 they were written in her mind during all the inter- 
 vening time. As week followed upon week, and 
 month upon month, she began to wonder if ever 
 again she would see the world which lay outside 
 Blanford. She had come to the conclusion that 
 during her mother's lifetime, at any rate, there 
 was little chance of it, when, one afternoon in 
 July, as she was sitting alone, she heard a car 
 draw in at the gate. She looked out of the win- 
 dow, and was somewhat surprised to see that it 
 contained both Hugh Cavour and Clara, for they 
 were not accustomed to come together. One or 
 the other was the limit of the honour usually 
 conferred upon the Dower House. They had 
 been to a garden-party, it appeared, at a village 
 a few miles from the town, and were on their way 
 home. 
 
 " We just came in," said Hugh, striking a 
 no
 
 The Spinster 
 
 match, from a box on the mantelpiece, to light his 
 pipe, "to see if you would care to come away 
 with us this year when we go abroad ?" 
 
 Mabel's spirit leapt, then as quickly stilled again. 
 " I'm afraid I couldn't manage it," she said. 
 
 " How do you mean ?" Hugh stopped with 
 the lighted match at the bowl of his pipe and 
 looked at her. 
 
 " I mean I couldn't afford it." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right !" He threw the match 
 into the hearth, among the ferns, and drew a 
 comforting whiff of smoke his first of the after- 
 noon. 
 
 Mabel supposed he was offering to pay for her, 
 but until he said so more definitely she did not 
 like to assume it by thanking him. 
 
 Clara solved her difficulty. " Do come," she 
 said ; " as our guest, of course ?" 
 
 " Oh, how nice of you !" cried Mabel spon- 
 taneously. " What a lovely invitation !" 
 
 She felt what she said. If she could make some 
 arrangement for the care of Mrs. Christopherson, 
 it would be a treat beyond anything she could 
 have hoped for. But, even while she was speak- 
 ing, there flashed into her mind a vivid impression 
 of the probable conjugal talk which had resulted 
 in the giving of this invitation : " We might as 
 well. Of course, she would be in the way but 
 still, she has rather a dull time here ; and if she 
 
 in
 
 The Spinster 
 
 were to break down, there would be no one else 
 to look after the old girl." 
 
 Clara laughed in her jovial and rather crude 
 way. She was wearing a delightfully fitting 
 Parisian gown. " There's not much in giving 
 you a trip, my dear," she said. " You'd die of 
 low fever if you never got a change from here. 
 You couldn't hire me to stay in this place all 
 the year round." 
 
 " Well, will you come ?" said Hugh, who, 
 having lighted his pipe, was anxious to have the 
 matter settled and to get back to the car. 
 
 " It would be perfectly exquisite," said Mabel. 
 " I should love to come just love to. But 
 what about mother ? She is not fit to be left." 
 
 " We could get Mrs. Taylor to come back 
 temporarily, or some one else if she wouldn't. 
 It would only be for a month or so. I'll see 
 about it." 
 
 " When do you go ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 " About the beginning of August. ... So 
 that's settled, is it ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Mabel, drawing a deep breath. 
 " if it can be arranged about mother ; and thank 
 you very much." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right !" said Hugh again, 
 casually, walking to the door. " We'll let you 
 know the exact date later. How's the mater ?" 
 he asked, as an afterthought. 
 112
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " I think she is a little easier to manage than 
 she was/' replied Mabel. " She is at church 
 now." 
 
 Hugh waited formally to hear the reply, and 
 then, without comment upon it, went out to the 
 car. Its engine had been running while it waited 
 at the door, and a minute later it rolled smoothly 
 out of the gate with its occupants, lifting them 
 on luxurious springs as it jumped the kerb. 
 
 Mabel returned to the sitting-room, and stood 
 looking out of the window. She watched the 
 back of the car while it gathered momentum on 
 its way down the street. It suddenly appeared 
 a queerer and duller old street than it had ever 
 appeared before. She was simmering with ex- 
 citement and happiness, and enjoying the delight 
 of controlling the impulse to give overt expres- 
 sion to her feelings. She wasn't sure, but she 
 thought she breathed a word of gratitude to a 
 kind Providence. 
 
 113
 
 Chapter VII 
 
 THE Cavours had decided to go this year to Le 
 Touquet, and to stay at the Hermitage Hotel in 
 the Forest. This hostelry, rising from small 
 beginnings, was now a palatial building of white 
 stone, which reared its imposing tiers of loggias, 
 verandas and windows in a spacious clearing 
 opposite the Casino. In common with every- 
 thing in this tract of country in Northern France, 
 covered for dozens of square miles with short 
 scrubby trees, intersected by broad drives and 
 dotted with villas and hotels, which is called 
 Le Touquet, it was financed by an English syndi- 
 cate, and solicited the support only of the wealthy ; 
 and by the wealthy, of necessity, only was it 
 patronised. They came for the baccarat, for the 
 riding in the Forest, and for what the advertise- 
 ments described as " The Finest Golf-Course on 
 the Continent." 
 
 And because the wealthy came, it suited Hugh 
 
 and Clara ; for it must candidly be confessed 
 
 they were both snobs. There was a difference, 
 
 however, in the nature of their snobbism, for 
 
 114
 
 The Spinster 
 
 whereas with Hugh it took the form, in the main, 
 of currying acquaintance with his social superiors, 
 with Clara it consisted pre-eminently in disdaining 
 those whom she considered beneath her. Once, 
 during an election, when Sir Mortimer Edgecombe 
 had come to the neighbourhood to make a political 
 speech, Hugh had succeeded in getting him to 
 spend a night at his house ; and a good deal had 
 been heard of the matter in Blanford. Sir Morti- 
 mer's candidate had failed to be elected, so he had 
 dropped political speaking as a thankless task, 
 and the Cavours appeared to have faded from 
 his visiting list. It was not now prudent, if you 
 wished to keep on good terms with Hugh Cavour, 
 to refer in his presence to Sir Mortimer Edge- 
 combe. Clara had thrown that incident lightly 
 and contemptuously from her mind, and she would 
 quite easily renew relations with Sir Mortimer if 
 circumstances should provide the opportunity. 
 But she regarded herself as of such social quality as 
 demanded that she should choose her friends with 
 some punctilio particularly that she should not 
 number amongst them women who did anything, 
 who worked. It had gone harshly against the 
 grain with her to be obliged to make an excep- 
 tion in favour of Mabel, and Hugh had a vivid 
 recollection of the strident and vigorous flow of 
 her mind on the score of his sister's profession. 
 That trouble was ancient history by this time,
 
 The Spinster 
 
 but even now she would refuse to be seen with 
 Mabel in uniform. 
 
 A considerable surprise was in store for the 
 latter on the evening of their arrival at the Her- 
 mitage. They had dined in the great glass- 
 sided loggia so large that those at the further 
 end could only faintly hear the band and were 
 making their way back to the hall of the hotel 
 through a wide corridor, where people were 
 seated drinking coffee, when she saw a man coming 
 to meet them. She had become accustomed, 
 these days, to thinking that strangers were like 
 Horace Register, to fancying that she saw him 
 in the most unlikely places. Her first impression 
 now was that, once again, her imagination was 
 tricking her. Then, as the approaching figure 
 came nearer, the resemblance to Register, in- 
 stead of evaporating, as it usually did, became 
 more and more striking startling. In another 
 second she knew that it was not a resemblance ; it 
 was he. 
 
 She hoped she had not changed colour. That 
 was the one thought in her mind, as she 
 watched him make his way quickly towards her, 
 through the people, his eyes bent down, look- 
 ing at the floor, trying to keep back an open 
 laugh. He was obviously enjoying her astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " I thought I should surprise you," he said, 
 116
 
 The Spinster 
 
 when he reached her, suddenly raising his eyes 
 and laughing now as candidly as a delighted 
 schoolboy. 
 
 " You have done/' admitted Mabel. " Why 
 didn't you tell me you were coming ?" 
 
 " What was the use ? I knew I should meet 
 you." 
 
 " But what a strange thing ! What an extra- 
 ordinary chance !" 
 
 " Nothing of the kind ! I had nowhere else to 
 gO' you told me you were coming here so I 
 came. It's very simple. I shall get some golf 
 and some baccarat." 
 
 " Yes, that's why all the men come." 
 
 " You don't mind, do you ?" He looked into 
 her eyes, suddenly, in his impertinently tender 
 way. 
 
 " Of course I don't," Mabel answered ; " I'm 
 very glad." An unquenchable flame of excite- 
 ment kept leaping up in her ; she knew that her 
 tone was false, and that her words were true. 
 
 ' That's not the right way to say it ; but never 
 mind, you'll learn," he said confidently. 
 
 He was duly introduced to Clara and Hugh. 
 At first the latter surveyed him with some dis- 
 approval. 
 
 " Glad to meet you," he said, holding out his 
 hand. " Staying here long ?" 
 
 It seemed to him somehow incongruous that 
 117
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabel should know men and be liable to meet 
 them in this way ; it seemed to be scarcely the 
 thing. Clara, for her part, was frankly pleased, 
 but privately considerably surprised to find that 
 Mabel was in a position to introduce to her such 
 a presentable male. Previously she had limited 
 her masculine acquaintance to the mild attorney 
 type. Her sister-in-law rose a degree in her 
 estimation. 
 
 She greeted Register with a charming smile, 
 and gave him her hand, rather high up. " What 
 a blessing to have someone new to talk to !" she 
 said in her jovial tone. " One's own family un- 
 diluted is not at all exciting. Let's all sit down 
 here. Order some coffee, Hugh." 
 
 They sat down, and soon Hugh began to thaw. 
 It is difficult to remain the only iceberg in a com- 
 pany of four : it involves isolation. After all, 
 the man seemed all right. Presently, too, he 
 touched a subject of common interest baccarat 
 and for a while the two women were left out 
 of the talk. From baccarat they proceeded to 
 gambling generally, and then Hugh, happy 
 with a new listener, warmed to his favourite 
 reminiscences of personal adventures at Monte 
 Carlo. 
 
 " I remember one time down at Monte," he 
 said, settling himself in his chair, and speaking 
 in a voice that would carry beyond their im- 
 118
 
 The Spinster 
 
 mediate circle, " I got completely drained out. 
 I went to Clara, and I said, ' Have you got any 
 money ?' And she brought out one of those long 
 bottles that women keep in their dressing-bags 
 you know the things I mean : I don't know what 
 they're for long things with silver tops she 
 brought out one of those, chock full of sovereigns, 
 English sovereigns ! Crammed chock-a-block of 
 them !" 
 
 " What did you do ?" asked Register. 
 
 " Do ! I put it in my pocket, and in five 
 minutes I was back in the rooms. I unscrewed 
 the top and piled the whole lot on red." 
 
 " Lost it ?" 
 
 " Lost it every cent of it. It cost me nearly 
 a thousand that trip. Oh, it's a mug's game !" 
 
 " And we didn't speak all the way from there 
 to London," Clara added, with vivid reminis- 
 cence. " I was keeping it for shopping in 
 Paris." 
 
 " There's only one thing you ever win at Monte 
 Carlo," said Register, " and that doesn't go into 
 your pocket." 
 
 Hugh did not very much care for that remark. 
 He got up from his chair. " Well, shall we be 
 getting across ?" he said. He meant to the 
 Casino. 
 
 " All right," said Clara. She was an inveterate 
 gambler. 
 
 119
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " It's no good my coming," said Mabel. " I 
 haven't anything to lose." 
 
 " You can try your luck at Petits Chevaux," 
 said her brother. " They don't charge you much 
 for that." 
 
 " Oh, don't they ?" said Register. " They 
 can charge you a couple of louis in ten 
 minutes." 
 
 " Looks as if you had been buying experience," 
 said Hugh, glad to get it in. 
 
 " Yes," admitted Register, laughing, " but it 
 was a good many years ago." 
 
 " Haven't you bought experience of all kinds ?" 
 said Clara, with a sportive smile, as he rose to let 
 her pass. 
 
 " I don't think I've rusted, Mrs. Cavour," he 
 returned, in the same lively tone. He did not 
 need anyone to tell him that Clara was a good- 
 looking woman. 
 
 " Playing to-night ?" asked Hugh, giving him 
 a glance. 
 
 He hesitated. " But what about Miss Christo- 
 pherson ?" 
 
 " Oh, I shall be all right !" said Mabel. " I've 
 got a book, and I'm used to being alone." She 
 picked up the book and opened it with an appear- 
 ance of indifference. 
 
 " Is it very exciting ?" asked Register. 
 
 " Very," she replied, beginning to smile, but 
 120
 
 The Spinster 
 
 without lifting her eyes from the page. " I can 
 hardly bear to leave it." 
 
 " Then I shall stay and talk to you," he an- 
 nounced, dropping back into his chair. 
 
 " I told you we should meet again, didn't I ?" 
 he said, when the others had passed out of ear- 
 shot. 
 
 " Oh, you are one of those men who always 
 know everything !" she answered. " I know per- 
 fectly well you think you are always right, and 
 that everybody else is always wrong." 
 
 " Well, what would be the good of thinking, if 
 you couldn't trust your own opinion ?" he asked, 
 in amazement. " I think, for instance, that you 
 don't want to read that book, and I'm prepared 
 to maintain that I'm right." 
 
 " I can't compete with your omniscience and 
 assertiveness," she replied, " so you may have it 
 your own way." 
 
 " You don't want to read the book ?" 
 
 " I say you may have it your own way." 
 
 " That leaves room for a private reservation. 
 If you want to read the book, I'll go and play 
 baccarat." 
 
 " Do you want to play baccarat ?" she asked 
 quietly, turning a page. 
 
 " Now you think you've got me !" he exclaimed, 
 with his spirited laugh. 
 
 Mabel said nothing. 
 
 121
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Don't you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He waited a moment. " Mabel Christopher- 
 son, you have," he said frankly. " I don't want 
 to play baccarat to-night." 
 
 She put a marker in the book and closed it. 
 " And you never do anything you don't want to 
 do, do you ?" she said, looking at him. 
 
 " Why should I ? I'm agent for no one's 
 happiness except my own." 
 
 " I could say a good deal in answer to that," 
 asserted Mabel. 
 
 " Then say it." 
 
 " Supposing you are agent for the happiness 
 of everyone with whom you come in contact ? 
 Supposing we all are ?" 
 
 " There's a good deal of virtue in that ' sup- 
 posing.' ' 
 
 " Some people try to live up to that idea." 
 
 " It must be a tiresome business. I hope 
 they'll be repaid." 
 
 " They are repaid. Think of the hosts of 
 friends they make." 
 
 " I know. People flock to their funerals." 
 
 " You shouldn't scoff." 
 
 " I'm not scoffing ; I'm perfectly serious. If 
 you want to know how you stand with the world, 
 you should try to imagine what your funeral will 
 be like. Personally, I admit I can't think of any 
 
 122
 
 The Spinster 
 
 single soul who could be expected to take the 
 trouble to come to mine." 
 
 " When you become as modest or as callous 
 as that," said Mabel, " I can't preach any more." 
 
 " Why should you preach at all ? First you 
 accuse me of self-assertiveness, and then of self- 
 love. I don't pretend to be a saint." 
 
 " I know that," said Mabel, smiling. 
 
 " You wouldn't like me so well if I were ?" 
 He bent towards her, and, as if by accident, let 
 his hand touch hers. 
 
 For a second Mabel permitted the contact, 
 then drew her hand away. 
 
 " Would you ?" he persisted. 
 
 " I wouldn't like you to be sanctimonious, but I 
 think you could be a little better than you are," 
 she answered, half humorously. 
 
 " For whose benefit ? For the world's in 
 general, or for yours ?" 
 
 " For your own," said Mabel. 
 
 " Oh, I'm quite content with my present con- 
 dition of iniquity," he asserted lightly. " But, 
 now, I want to know what you think," he went 
 on, without changing his attitude of intimate 
 inquiry : " it was rather a good idea of mine, 
 coming here, wasn't it ? 
 
 " We'll have some bathes in the sea," he sup- 
 plemented, as she did not reply, " and some golf, 
 and some walks in the Forest, and I'll take you 
 
 123
 
 The Spinster 
 
 round the gaming-rooms, or to dances, or to 
 anything that's going on." 
 
 Mabel was mechanically rippling the leaves of 
 the book in her hand. She felt that, if she had 
 wanted one, he was supplying her with an illus- 
 tration to point her homily upon the virtue of 
 being an agent for the happiness of others. These 
 various occupations were proposed, she knew 
 he would have admitted it himself for his own 
 entertainment during the time he expected to 
 spend at Le Touquet, and she was included in 
 them because she chanced to assist that enter- 
 tainment. For some reason he found her society 
 stimulating. He would make light and airy love 
 to her all the time, without thinking or caring 
 what might be the consequence to her of such 
 continued association with his vivid and magnetic 
 personality. When the holiday at Le Touquet 
 should be over, and she could no longer minister 
 to his amusement, his immediate concern with 
 her would be at an end, and he would pass to 
 other occupations. It did not seem to make 
 much difference, so far as she was concerned, that 
 he made no other pretence ; that he never had 
 suggested, or would suggest, a serious thought in 
 regard to her or any woman. For she was acutely 
 conscious that, in spite of that knowledge, she 
 liked to be with him, to help to his entertain- 
 ment, to have him bending close to her, as he 
 124
 
 The Spinster 
 
 was bending now, asking her these questions, and 
 that she would get to like it more. 
 
 He pressed his points ; he reiterated his cata- 
 logue of amusements. 
 
 " Yes," she said, at last ; " all right." 
 
 " What's the matter ?" he asked curiously. 
 " Why do you say it like that ?" 
 
 " How else can I say it ? You are so in- 
 sistent. I didn't think it needed an answer at 
 all." 
 
 " But I want you to be expansive," he cried 
 out. " I want you to enthuse. Haven't you 
 any imagination ?" 
 
 " Imagination !" she repeated, with rather 
 amused irony. 
 
 " Imagination is the palate of life," said Regis- 
 ter. " Don't you realise it ? We should be 
 mummies without it. It would be as futile to 
 try to drink old wine without a palate as to try 
 to go through life without imagination." 
 
 " Then there must be a great many mummies 
 in the world." 
 
 " So there are." 
 
 ' Well, I grant it. But do you think I should 
 be altogether wise, in the circumstances, to give 
 my imagination full scope ?" 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Do you know when there will be another 
 eclipse of the moon ?" 
 
 125
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " What on earth has that to do with it ? 
 You've run off from the point." 
 
 " So I always shall when you ask me imperti- 
 nent questions questions which you know I 
 can't answer." 
 
 " I see," said Register, sitting back in his chair. 
 He was quite satisfied. " Do you mind if I have 
 a cigarette ?" 
 
 126
 
 Chapter VIII 
 
 " MARQUEZ vos jeux, Messieurs Marquez vos 
 jeux. . . . Les jeux sont fait. . . . Rien ne va 
 plus. . . ." (" It's going to be nine no, it's going 
 past it's three three.") . . . " Le trrois "... 
 (" Un franc un franc un franc cinq francs 
 Le trois ?") ..." Marquez vos jeux, Mes- 
 sieurs." 
 
 Like the little horses themselves, the words 
 went round in a monotonous circle, again and 
 again and again. From three to seven and from 
 eight to twelve there was never any cessation. 
 Every seat at the T-shaped table was occupied ; 
 people crowded over the backs of the sitters in 
 the stifling atmosphere. Five baize-covered 
 boards, marked with lines and figures, were 
 successively sprinkled with coins and depleted 
 of them ; five croupiers were continuously at 
 work. 
 
 Horace Register came in from the veranda and 
 made his way slowly through the crowd. This 
 was the fourth evening of his stay at Le Touquet. 
 He espied Mabel among the spectators, and 
 
 127
 
 The Spinster 
 
 stopped quietly beside her, without immediately 
 speaking. She was standing behind Clara Cavour, 
 who was seated at the table, grimly watching the 
 circling horses. 
 
 Realising that Mabel was behind her, she partly 
 turned to her with a hurried word. " Oh, my 
 dear, I'm losing fearfully !" (" Le neuf.") 
 " Look there ! Isn't it just my luck ? There's 
 nine come. I've been putting on it all night, 
 and only changed two turns ago." Seeing Regis- 
 ter, she gave him a ready and glowing smile, 
 and then threw up a twenty-franc piece to the 
 croupier for change. 
 
 " Come along," said Register, jerking up his 
 chin and compressing his lips, a slight smile in 
 his eyes. 
 
 He was a keen gambler, but he was also a dis- 
 criminating one, and you did not find him plank- 
 ing francs at Petits Chevaux. He knew the 
 odds were against him, and that nothing could 
 make them otherwise. At baccarat the chances 
 were even, and there were many fools who played. 
 He gambled because he considered his wits 
 superior to those of the average man, and was 
 prepared to pit his against them. No one played 
 a much better game of bridge than he ; and bridge 
 supplied him with a small but steady income, upon 
 which he paid no tax. 
 
 He took Mabel into the baccarat-room. Here 
 128
 
 The Spinster 
 
 there reigned an air of grave and sumptuous calm. 
 The carpet was thick ; the lights were shaded, and 
 fell in four pools on the four oval tables. The 
 game was in full course ; all the chairs were occu- 
 pied by well-dressed men and women, while a few 
 punters stood watching, or moved from table 
 to table. But there was very little sound. The 
 gambling was too serious for the hum and hubbub 
 which attended Petits Chevaux. 
 
 This was the first time Mabel had been here ; 
 for the first time she saw a side of life known 
 before only by hearsay, by imagination. She 
 drew in her breath and watched with intent 
 interest the faces of the players. They were 
 nearly all English : elegant idlers, who had as 
 much money as they needed, and gambled to pass 
 the time, pushing their notes across the line, and 
 seeing them swept away, with studied indiffer- 
 ence ; a few heavy-featured business men, who 
 had spent half their lives in the unremitting 
 pursuit of gold, and were now advertising their 
 success ; fashionable women, with jewelled purses 
 and gold cigarette-cases, who seemed as if they 
 must all have been the chief figures in some cause 
 celebre ; the spoilt darling of a great commercial 
 house a simple-faced, yellow-haired youth of 
 twenty screwing up his features in imitation of 
 the polite nonchalance of his elders, staking his 
 notes, languorously stretching for his cards, 
 
 129 i
 
 The Spinster 
 
 drawling " Carte ?" and losing his money, before 
 the admiring gaze of his fond and foolish mother. 
 Mabel rather pitied this yellow-haired youth, 
 beginning his life in such a fashion ; but he was 
 in no way distasteful to Register : he had played 
 at his table. 
 
 The more she watched them at work, the more 
 Mabel admired the manual and mental dexterity 
 of the croupiers who presided at each table. 
 They seemed to be doing so many things at the 
 same time collecting and distributing the cards 
 and the money with their long, flat, lath-like 
 wands ; counting the sum in the pool ; obtaining 
 change ; dropping coins into the table ; stamping 
 endless little checks, and tearing them from a 
 perforated book ; calling out all the time, " Dix 
 louis faites vos jeux, Messieurs banco," with- 
 out ever the least flurry or confusion. And it 
 went on continuously, she was told, hour upon 
 hour without respite, except when new cards were 
 needed, when there was an interval of a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Register touched her arm, and they moved 
 towards another table, just in time to see Hugh 
 Cavour rise from his chair, leaving his notes and 
 gold on the green cloth, as a sign that he intended 
 to return. 
 
 " How are you doing ?" asked Register 
 casually. 
 
 130
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Hugh screwed his face to a very sour expres- 
 sion, said " Damn !" forcibly in Register's ear, 
 and passed on. 
 
 "Is it safe to leave their money on the 
 table like that, when they go away ?" asked 
 Mabel. 
 
 " Sh-h !" whispered her companion, smiling. 
 '' This is a club, you understand we are all 
 gentlemen here." Then he added, in a still lower 
 tone : " But I wouldn't trust them with the lights 
 out." 
 
 " Aren't you going to play ?" she questioned. 
 
 " But what would become of you ?" 
 
 " Oh, I could watch for a time, and then go 
 back to the hotel. You mustn't think of me." 
 
 " Well, there's not a chair to be had, so I can't, 
 in any case. Let us go and sit on the veranda 
 and listen to the band. I admit I'm making a 
 virtue of necessity," he added, with a smile. 
 
 " As if I didn't know that !" said Mabel. 
 
 " Will you have a champagne-cobbler ?" he 
 asked, when they got outside. 
 
 " Oh no," said Mabel, " thank you nothing." 
 
 " One champagne-cobbler," he said to the 
 waiter, who was punctually in attendance the 
 moment they sat down. ' That's the price we 
 pay for our seats," he explained to Mabel, when 
 the man had gone on his errand. ' You know 
 I don't want a champagne-cobbler."
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " It would be a bold person who would pre- 
 tend to know what you want in any respect," 
 said Mabel, smiling a little. " I don't think you 
 know yourself." 
 
 " What I want in coming here, for instance, 
 and talking to you ?" he asked, looking at her 
 quizzically. 
 
 " I wasn't thinking of that," she replied ; " but 
 have it so, if you like." 
 
 " Well, I don't want a wife," he said brazenly. 
 " Never again !" he reiterated, with his customary 
 fervour. 
 
 "I know that," retorted Mabel, rather sharply. 
 " Don't be impertinent, or I shall have to go 
 away." 
 
 " You wouldn't have me, perhaps, if I did ?" 
 He was quite unabashed. 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Then that disposes of that point," he said 
 easily. " We both know where we are." 
 
 There was an interval of silence. Register was 
 leaning with his elbow on the rail of the balcony, 
 smoking a cigar, watching the people passing. 
 
 " Do you know why all these women wear such 
 fine clothes ?" he asked, presently. 
 
 " To make themselves look nice." 
 
 ' Yes, but why ? For their personal satis- 
 faction ?" 
 
 " Well, for their self-respect." 
 132
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " To attract the male," he pronounced, with 
 such an important effect of having contributed 
 something to knowledge that she smiled in spite 
 of herself ; for his gratuitous reference to his con- 
 firmed state of widowhood still rather rankled. 
 
 " I think that has been said before." 
 
 He smiled back into her eyes. " Oh, has it ?" 
 Then he went on in his old tone : "At bottom, 
 no one man or woman ever does anything in 
 the way of personal adornment except for the 
 other sex. If there were no women, there would 
 be no razors ; if there were no men, there would 
 be no cosmetics." 
 
 Mabel laughed. " Yes, I suppose that is true." 
 
 " And just look at the nonsensical effects it 
 produces. There's nothing makes a man feel 
 more disreputable than to miss his usual hour 
 for shaving. Yet there's nothing essentially 
 degrading about a beard." 
 
 " But there is something," said Mabel, " very 
 disagreeable about forty-eight hours of one." 
 
 " Disagreeable, perhaps, but not degrading. 
 Don't you see the point ?" Register was always 
 very insistent to get his ideas home. " It's all 
 nonsense. Nature is right, beards are right." 
 
 " Then why don't you grow one ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 He pulled at his little fair moustache. " I 
 have something," he said, showing dimples in his 
 cheeks. 
 
 133
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " But why not a beard ?" 
 " Because I'm a conventionalist ; I have to be. 
 I want to attract the female." 
 Mabel began to smile. 
 
 " Now, don't you humbug !" He looked at her 
 closely, his eyes sparkling with chaff, which con- 
 tained just an ingredient of something serious. 
 " I want to attract the female," he said deliber- 
 ately, again. 
 
 " Some women like beards," said Mabel, play- 
 ing with the straws in his empty glass. 
 
 " Do you ?" He put his hands on the table, 
 and tilted his chair back, still looking at her. 
 
 " On the whole, I don't think I do. But the man 
 is the important factor. Some men would be 
 tolerable with beards, and some would be in- 
 tolerable with the most immaculate of clean- 
 shaven countenances." 
 
 There was clearly no more to be obtained in 
 that direction, so Register again changed his 
 tone. 
 
 " Are you a conventionalist ?" he asked. 
 " What a sudden question ! You must ex- 
 pound it." 
 
 " Are you for Marcus Aurelius, when he says, 
 ' Take Nature for your guide/ or are you for the 
 modern detractors of Nature, who say, ' Take us 
 for your guide ' ?" 
 
 " Of course, you can never be serious," said 
 134
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabel, seeing that there was still something of a 
 smile in his eyes. 
 
 " I am serious. There are many people who 
 apparently regard the lines upon which Provi- 
 dence has chosen to work in human affairs as 
 highly objectionable." 
 
 Mabel smiled. 
 
 ' You don't believe it ? I tell you it's true. 
 There are certain emotions and certain ways of 
 expressing emotion which they have elected to 
 regard as very unfortunate." 
 
 Mabel laughed outright. " You know, you 
 do put things in a novel way," she said. 
 
 " But isn't it a fact ? They admit they are 
 necessary these works of Providence but they 
 think, in effect, that the same ends might have 
 been achieved by much more desirable means." 
 
 " As for instance ?" 
 
 " Well, the race could have been perpetuated 
 by thought transference, by fusing of brain 
 emanations. Why not ? Omnipotence can do 
 anything." 
 
 " No one will dispute that," said Mabel. 
 
 " Do you think the world would have been 
 happier so ?" 
 
 She reflected. " I'm not sure," she said. " But 
 why trouble ? Why cry for an impossible moon ?" 
 
 " I'm not crying for an impossible moon far 
 from it. These are not my ideas. I'm merely 
 
 135
 
 The Spinster 
 
 stating the criticism that is tacitly levelled at 
 existing arrangements." 
 
 "Oh, I know what you are doing !" 
 
 " Think how nice things might have been. 
 No need for aeroplanes we could all have gone 
 floating about without any bodies at all." 
 
 " Silly billy !" 
 
 " Not so silly as you imagine. It is hoped 
 eventually to be able to develop the thought 
 transference idea, and in the meantime they cover 
 up as far as possible these unfortunate flaws in 
 the scheme of creation. They keep them out of 
 sight." 
 
 " That's foolish," said Mabel. " As if you could 
 do anything else!" 
 
 " That's the point," cried Register, highly de- 
 lighted. " That's where the conventionalists have 
 brought us. They've made us ashamed of our- 
 selves." 
 
 " That's the legacy of Eden," said Mabel. 
 
 " Yes, the snake was the conventionalist there. 
 Things were all right before his arrival." 
 
 He looked around. " Supposing we have a 
 walk in the garden ?" he said. " The waiter is 
 beginning to hover. If we sit here much longer, 
 I shall have to have another champagne-cobbler, 
 and that wouldn't be good for me." 
 
 Mabel agreed, and drew on her cloak. They 
 crossed the main drive, which ran in front of the 
 136
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Casino, and passed behind the bandstand along 
 one of the by-paths, bordered with fairy-lights. 
 They had left the crowd, and now met people 
 only at intervals, in ones and twos. Presently 
 they reached the edge of the garden where it was 
 separated from the Forest by a fence. There was 
 a gate at the end of the path, and Register held 
 it open. Mabel half hesitated, and then went on. 
 She had a feeling that she was doing something 
 which would be considered very imprudent. 
 Perhaps it was ; but she had never done any- 
 thing imprudent of that kind, all her life, and 
 for once she would experiment in imprudence. 
 
 They walked slowly down one of the drives, 
 flooded with white moonlight through the trees. 
 It was curious so it seemed but the mere fact 
 of passing from the garden to the Forest had pro- 
 duced a subjective change in her. She was con- 
 scious of a sense of exaltation, of mystery, of 
 freedom. Her whole being became magnetic. 
 She did not know what might be the feelings of a 
 small boy when he played truant from school, but 
 she thought they must resemble her own just then. 
 
 There were indications, too, that the change 
 of environment had effected a similar change in 
 her companion. He walked close to her, and his 
 tone dropped ; his shoulder kept brushing upon 
 hers brushing upon hers, she was sure, pur- 
 posely, designedly. Each time it did so every 
 
 137
 
 The Spinster 
 
 nerve of her being thrilled. All the pent-down 
 emotion in her rose in response. It was very hard 
 to control her voice, and she dreaded lest it should 
 tell him what she was going through. She was 
 thirty-seven, and this was the first time she had 
 known this experience, these circumstances, so 
 common to many women. 
 
 Suddenly she felt her hand clasped within his. 
 It seemed incredible, but she did not withdraw 
 it for several seconds she did not withdraw it. 
 " Mabel Christopherson," he said, " when am I 
 going to be allowed to drop the Christopherson ?" 
 
 " I didn't know you wanted to," she said, with 
 difficulty. 
 
 " You did not know !" 
 
 " It is best as it is I think." Her breath 
 would not come. 
 
 " But why ? Aren't we friends enough ?" 
 
 ' Yes but " 
 
 ' Yes ?" He was very close. 
 
 " Oh, please don't ! Let's go back." 
 
 " I want to know. Why ?" 
 
 " There are others. ... It might . . . Don't 
 you see " 
 
 " Oh, you are trembling you can't speak !" 
 
 With astonishing swiftness she was caught in 
 his arms, her head was bent back upon his shoul- 
 der, his lips were pressed upon hers. For the 
 first time in her life a man kissed her. 
 138
 
 The Spinster 
 
 A long second, oblivious, blinded, she yielded 
 to him utterly. The next, with a rush of clear 
 consciousness, she tore herself away, flaming with 
 anger. 
 
 ' You coward !" she cried. 
 
 Register was considerably taken aback. " I 
 simply don't understand," he said. 
 
 ' You don't understand ! You don't under- 
 stand ! Do you suppose I should have come here 
 with you at night, if I hadn't trusted you abso- 
 lutely if I had thought for a single moment that 
 it could be possible for you to behave in such a 
 way as this ?" 
 
 "I'm sorry," he answered, a little tartly. " But 
 I think you are making rather an unnecessary 
 fuss. Nothing very serious has happened." 
 
 " After what you said to me earlier this even- 
 ing, it was absolutely inexcusable." 
 
 " What I said to you earlier this evening ?" 
 He was honestly at a loss. 
 
 " About about ' never again.' ' 
 
 He was silent for a few moments. " I had 
 forgotten I had been saying that," he admitted 
 at last. 
 
 The words fell upon Mabel like a douche of 
 cold water. His silence had sprung a flaming 
 thought in her mind spite of her judgment 
 that he might be going to speak in another strain, 
 to another purpose. 
 
 139
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Without saying a word, she turned and walked 
 quickly back along the drive. Register followed, 
 feeling slightly foolish, and trying to avoid the 
 sense that he was hurrying. In this way they 
 went on in silence until they had come nearly 
 to the end of the drive, and could see at the end 
 of it the glare of the hotel and the people crossing 
 the road from the Casino. Then Register made 
 up the two steps he was still in the rear, and came 
 abreast of her. 
 
 " Mabel Christopherson," he said firmly, " will 
 you let me apologise ?" 
 
 She slightly reduced her pace, but did not look 
 at him. 
 
 " I've knocked about the world a great deal," 
 he went on, " and mixed with all sorts and con- 
 ditions of people, and I'm afraid that, in conse- 
 quence, my perceptions have become rather less 
 fine than they ought to be." 
 
 She still went on, though with a further 
 diminution of her pace, and she did not speak. 
 
 " What happened just now was the result of 
 the too casual habit of looking at things that I've 
 grown into during the last half-dozen years. I 
 can see now that it was outrageous, and I'm 
 honestly and sincerely sorry. And if you won't 
 believe that, won't consent to try to forgive me, 
 I shall be more unhappy than perhaps you 
 imagine. There is no woman whose whose 
 140
 
 The Spinster 
 
 respect and friendship I would less willingly 
 lose." 
 
 Even yet Mabel remained silent. 
 
 " If you won't, of course I must leave here." 
 
 At last she spoke. " I can't forgive you yet," 
 she said ; " but you need not leave." 
 
 They came out from the drive into the open 
 space in front of the hotel. 
 
 As they were walking up the steps, she turned 
 her face to him. " Do I look all right ?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Register examined her. " Yes," he answered ; 
 and then, distinctly tentatively : " Well, there's 
 half a tear-drop on one eyelash." 
 
 She brushed it aside and went into the hotel. 
 They found Clara sitting in the hall. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, where have you been ?" said 
 she, with considerable fervour. " I wouldn't 
 have minded missing you so much, but I wanted 
 Mr. Register to give me a cigarette and order me 
 a whisky and syphon. I've had the most awful 
 evening, and I finished at the very worst." 
 
 " That game is really no use," said Register, 
 opening his case and offering it. " You should 
 play baccarat." 
 
 Clara looked up into his face as she took a 
 cigarette. ' Thank you so much. It seems a 
 shame, but when one has a husband who buries 
 himself in the baccarat-room until the small 
 
 141
 
 The Spinster 
 
 hours every night, one is really obliged to sponge 
 on other people's men." 
 
 She allowed her hand to touch his as he held 
 a lighted match. " Thank you "; and then, 
 hurriedly : " Where are you going, my dear ?" 
 
 Mabel was moving towards the lift. " I 
 thought I would go straight upstairs," she said. 
 
 " Oh, but won't you stay ? I shall only be 
 ten minutes." 
 
 "No; I think I'll go," she said. "Good- 
 night." 
 
 " Good-night," said the other two together. 
 
 Clara realised that something had happened, 
 but it did not trouble her. She was an excellent 
 hand at minding her own business ; and she asked 
 nothing better than that others should mind 
 theirs. 
 
 Register dropped into a chair beside her. " I 
 wonder what you meant," he asked, " when you 
 said I was somebody else's man ?" 
 
 " My dear, I have eyes." 
 
 Register smiled. " My dear, that is charm- 
 ingly evident." 
 
 She laughed in her hearty way. "I'm always 
 making that slip," she said. 
 
 " I hope you don't want to retract it ?" 
 
 " Oh no ; I'll leave it." 
 
 " But I want to be quite candid and above- 
 board," he said. ' Your sister-in-law and I are 
 142
 
 The Spinster 
 
 excellent friends, but we both know that I 
 haven't the remotest idea of re-entering that 
 state to which it has pleased God to call you, 
 for instance." 
 
 " Do you think it necessary to tell me that ?" 
 said Clara. " I'm a woman of the world, Mr. 
 Register. No one but a woman of the world," 
 she added, a little ruefully, " would spend hours 
 losing money at such a stupid game as Petits 
 Chevaux." She lifted one of two glasses which 
 a waiter had just placed on a table. " Here's to 
 better luck to-morrow night." 
 
 Register followed her example. " I warmly 
 join in the toast," he said. 
 
 143
 
 Chapter IX 
 
 WHEN Mabel came to think quietly over the 
 events of that evening, it occurred to her that 
 she had perhaps been a little hard on Horace 
 Register. She knew his standards he had made 
 no secret of them and she had allowed him to 
 make indubitable love to her, to walk close to 
 her, to hold her hand. How could he be sup- 
 posed to understand that she would fiercely resent 
 what would appear to him to follow naturally 
 from that attitude on her part ? Indeed, she 
 was not sure that she could understand it her- 
 self it was certainly not logical. She smiled in 
 the darkness of the night at the vivid thought of 
 his amazement, of his stupefaction, when she 
 turned upon him, in the flash of a moment, with 
 such consuming wrath. 
 
 Beginning to analyse her motives, she dis- 
 covered that her anger had been aroused in a 
 small degree, indeed, by him, but in a much 
 greater degree by herself because, in the first 
 second, when he had caught her in his arms, she 
 had yielded to him so completely, so unreservedly. 
 144
 
 The Spinster 
 
 It was such a wonderful thing to her to be kissed 
 to be kissed by a man who was dear to her 
 and in that moment of its intense realisation 
 all her inhibitions had been swept away. She 
 had let slip her secret ; henceforth he must know 
 that he was dear to her. That it was which had 
 inflamed her, which inflamed her still. It was 
 humiliating that a man, who had told her with 
 nauseating persistence and emphasis that he had 
 no thought of marriage, who had never indicated 
 more than some friendly regard for her, some 
 light pleasure in her society, whose faults had 
 been almost ostentatiously displayed before her 
 eyes, which were stamped upon her brain, should 
 know that he stood near to her heart, even that 
 he stood next to her heart. If she had fought 
 from him from the beginning, she could have 
 forgiven herself. But by her instant's failure she 
 had impressed his mind with sure knowledge, 
 and put it out of her power to remove the im- 
 pression. Nothing she could now do could efface 
 the effect of that one moment's surrender. 
 
 She wondered if she should have allowed him to 
 carry out his threat to leave, if it had been weak 
 of her to say that he could stay ? To send him 
 away might have been to make a foolish mountain 
 out of a molehill, and certainly it would have done 
 nothing to remove the impression on his mind 
 rather would it have accentuated it. She could 
 
 145 K
 
 The Spinster 
 
 picture the smile with which he would recall the 
 woman at Le Touquet she suspected that she 
 would quickly become " the woman at Le 
 Touquet "who had not dared to trust herself 
 for a few weeks within his magnetic circle. Then 
 suddenly she threw all that overboard, admitted 
 that it was specious reasoning, admitted that 
 what spoke to her was that the remaining time of 
 her holiday would be a blank if he were gone. 
 
 She assumed quite simply, almost necessarily, 
 that whatever might be between them was one- 
 sided. Her experience of life had left her with no 
 complacent idea of her own power of attraction. 
 She had heard several small hours strike when the 
 venturesome little question sidled into her 
 thoughts, whether he might hold for her any 
 warmer feeling than he had yet expressed. She 
 scoffed at it, but for a while she let it rest on her 
 heart. In the warmth it gave, she chuckled at 
 what would be considered the shocking risk of 
 marrying such a man. She knew herself and she 
 knew Horace Register, and if Horace Register 
 cared a wee bit, the rest would be all right. But 
 she soon tossed the possibility aside. She was 
 not the kind of woman that men love, that men 
 marry. All that lay ahead of her was the balance 
 of her stay at Le Touquet three weeks and a few 
 days. If she could crush this madness down and 
 behave sensibly they might be happy weeks. 
 146
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Nothing that had happened would produce an 
 overt change in Register. In spite of what he had 
 said to the contrary, under her lash, his percep- 
 tions could be trusted. He might be a rogue, but 
 there was nothing wrong with his sense of honour. 
 He would not wound her by any sign that he had 
 learnt her secret. 
 
 After breakfast the next morning the first 
 chance they had to speak he came to her. 
 " Well," he said, with a smile that was half 
 ashamed and half assured, "is it peace ? Am I 
 to be forgiven ?" 
 
 She took a light tone. " Oh yes," she answered ; 
 " I won't sulk. But you will have to behave 
 better in future." 
 
 ' You were angry," he said impressively. 
 
 " Wasn't I ?" She smiled. " I felt angry. 
 Were you startled ?" 
 
 " Very much." 
 
 " I'm glad. I think it will do you good. You 
 are getting too presumptuous ; you needed a 
 lesson." 
 
 " I shan't need another," said Register. 
 
 That was a remark which she was at liberty to 
 interpret as she chose. What he meant was, that 
 his experience of the previous evening had taught 
 him that in her case impetuous methods were to 
 be distrusted. She was not a fortress that could 
 be rushed. Far from inclining him to retreat 
 
 147
 
 The Spinster 
 
 into his tent, the rebuff he had suffered had dis- 
 tinctly stimulated a desire to tame her. He would 
 have regarded it as a slur on his escutcheon if his 
 relations with Mabel Christopherson were to close 
 at the point they had now reached. That had 
 been his feeling as he had followed doggedly in the 
 wake of her indignant figure hastening homeward 
 down the drive. He was a man, as has been said, 
 of quick temper. Her unexpected vehemence had 
 put a dangerous pressure upon it, and she did not 
 suspect how near it had been to an explosion. 
 That had only been avoided by his knowledge 
 that it was to his interest to keep control of the 
 situation. 
 
 " All right, my lady," he had been repeating to 
 himself, as he followed her, " all right. We will 
 see to this." 
 
 His first act in pursuit of that object had been 
 to abase himself for the purpose of gaining time. 
 In doing that he had been very deliberately and 
 consciously stooping to conquer. 
 
 Even yet, let it be understood, the only thought 
 in his mind was to make her accept meekly what 
 she had declined with such flaming umbrage 
 that, and no more. He laid his dispositions to 
 that end carefully, and kept up a steady and im- 
 perceptibly increasing pressure. His original pro- 
 gramme of amusements was carried out to the 
 letter. He took her to play golf, to bathe in the 
 148
 
 The Spinster 
 
 sea, to drive in the Forest and to places in the 
 vicinity, to hear concerts and plays at the Casino. 
 Hugh Cavour was too much concerned with his 
 own affairs to take much notice, but Clara was 
 perfectly aware of what was going on, and she 
 watched developments with the somewhat languid 
 and amused interest of an occupant of the stalls. 
 
 No one who is versed in the play of human 
 forces, and has understood the conditions obtain- 
 ing between the two people here concerned, will 
 be surprised to learn that in the course of the 
 next few weeks, by judiciously paving the way 
 and by using chary and delicate approaches, 
 Horace Register contrived more than once to 
 repeat his offence, and that at each repetition 
 Mabel's resentment became less and less pro- 
 nounced. The old devil of custom got in his 
 word, and represented to her that, after all, it 
 was not so particularly awful or so particularly 
 unusual. He went on to point out that her life 
 hitherto had not been unduly seasoned with any- 
 thing in the nature of love affairs, to suggest that 
 the opportunity which now offered was probably 
 limited to her stay at Le Touquet, and to ask, if 
 for this week or two she allowed herself a little 
 unorthodox enjoyment, what harm it could 
 possibly do to anybody ? 
 
 One day, when these relations had been estab- 
 lished, they went down to bathe at Paris Plage. 
 
 149
 
 The Spinster 
 
 This is a little French watering-place outside the 
 sphere of the English syndicate. The shops are 
 French, the people are French, the language is 
 French. It is almost possible to talk English 
 there with the hope that it will not be understood 
 by neighbouring listeners. 
 
 After bathing, they walked along the shore till 
 they were clear of the crowd ; then they sat down 
 on the sand, with their backs upon an old boat, 
 facing landward. From here, on their left, they 
 had a middle-distance view of the sea-front of 
 Paris Plage its odd assortment of queer-shaped 
 houses, the unbroken row of bathing-huts lining 
 the beach, the numberless little tents spattering 
 the foreshore, and the children of all ages and 
 sizes cutting conduits, and building sand-castles, 
 and flying kites of fearful and wonderful shape. 
 Register had drawn Mabel close to him, and she 
 was resting contentedly within his arm. 
 
 " Isn't this nice ?" he said. " Isn't it ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, it's nice," she admitted ; " but it's 
 not right." 
 
 " I didn't say it was right that's not the point. 
 I said it was nice. Good gracious ! whose to 
 know what's right and what's wrong ? There 
 never was a time when people were not fighting 
 about that. It's no good looking at earth with 
 your head in the clouds. What we've got to do, 
 if we are wise, is to find out what's worth 
 150
 
 The Spinster 
 
 having, and to have it before we die. We shall 
 soon all be dead, and what will anything matter 
 after that ?" 
 
 " I suppose we shall have to give an account 
 of our sins ?" 
 
 " Oh, don't be scared from pleasures here by 
 hypothetical pains hereafter." 
 
 ' You see," said Mabel, " I know quite well 
 that this is only an amusement with you. You 
 are passing the time ; you are not serious." 
 
 " I don't think you ought to say that ; it's not 
 fair to either of us. I don't pretend to be able to 
 make long poetical speeches, to swear by the sun 
 and the moon and the stars, and all the rest of it." 
 
 Mabel smiled. " You needn't go so far as that. 
 I shouldn't recognise you if you did. But " 
 
 M Well ?" 
 
 " Well, do you know you have never uttered 
 the word ' love ' once not once ?" 
 
 " Why should I ? It's obvious." 
 
 " What is obvious ?" 
 
 " Don't be sentimental. I can't say things of 
 that kind in cold blood." 
 
 " I should like you to say it once." 
 
 Register grappled with his conscience and over- 
 came it. "I love you," he said, holding her 
 tight ; then, as if to emphasise it, but really to 
 cover it, he bent and kissed her closely. He felt 
 the kiss go through her, as he always did.
 
 The Spinster 
 
 She did not believe him ; she knew that he was 
 lying at least, that he was straining terms ; but 
 there was a certain comfort in the hearing of the 
 words, even though they were false. It was quite 
 otherwise with Register. This forced speech gave 
 him a focus ; it showed him sharply the position 
 they had reached. While they were walking back 
 to the hotel together, though he continued to talk 
 to her, he was reviewing the situation in his mind. 
 It appeared to him that it was becoming silly. 
 He had accomplished what he had set himself to 
 accomplish, and now what remained was like 
 staring into a drained glass. There was no pur- 
 pose in it, no rhyme or reason. It was not the 
 first time that his life had brought him precisely 
 to this unprofitable point : he knew what it 
 meant. They were in the way of continuing 
 round and round in a circle till they were heartily 
 tired of it. To be on " kissing terms " was, of 
 all things in the world, by the estimate of his 
 experience, the most banal. With some women, 
 matters would have pursued their course, but 
 this was not the kind of woman with whom they 
 would be likely to pursue their course. He thought 
 he would begin to play baccarat again. 
 
 When they reached the hotel, however, they 
 
 were reminded, by the signs of preparation, that 
 
 there was to be a dance that night. The verandas 
 
 were hung with lanterns, the large salon had been 
 
 152
 
 The Spinster 
 
 cleared, and most of its furniture had been placed 
 in the hall and in the corridors. Quantities of 
 plants and flowers had been introduced, and in a 
 conspicuous place, facing the entrance, the French 
 and English flags were draped together, entwined 
 by a garland of oak-leaves, roses, and lilies. It 
 was, in fact, the gala night at the Hermitage. In 
 such way was the English syndicate, at the height 
 of its season, accustomed to promote at once the 
 enjoyment of the visitors to its hotels and the 
 comity of nations. 
 
 It was obvious, Register saw, that for this night, 
 at least, the return to baccarat could be suspended. 
 The circle had not yet quite been rounded. He 
 was a good dancer, and so was Mabel. 
 
 " Oh, how jolly !" exclaimed the latter, when 
 she saw the preparations. " I had forgotten all 
 about it." 
 
 " I feel like dancing, don't you ?" said Register. 
 " Keep all the waltzes till I see you." 
 
 She went into the lift. " You shall have my 
 programme," she said, " as soon as I get it." 
 
 A ball at an hotel is not necessarily assured of 
 unqualified success. There is always a section of 
 the visitors which considers perhaps not with- 
 out reason that it is being ousted from the 
 peaceful possession and enjoyment of legitimate 
 rights. At the Hermitage, however, this section 
 betook itself after dinner, with rumbles and mut- 
 
 153
 
 The Spinster 
 
 terings which were not so pronounced as to 
 threaten seismic disturbance, across to the Casino. 
 Among the deserters was Hugh Cavour. He had 
 danced, without conspicuous skill, in his younger 
 days, but latterly had firmly adopted the attitude 
 that the art of Terpsichore was a childish amuse- 
 ment, unbefitting a grown man. The gap left by 
 these seceders was soon more than filled by an 
 incursion from the other hotels, and when the 
 opening bars of the first waltz vibrated from the 
 string band the rooms were gay with a brilliant 
 crowd of men and women in animated, humming 
 conversation. 
 
 " Quick !" said Register to Mabel ; " we can 
 get half round the room before the crowd starts. 
 You can always get an empty floor for ten seconds 
 if you're quick." 
 
 He was as eager to snatch those ten seconds 
 as if a fortune had depended on it, and as cock- 
 a-hoop at having secured them as if he had saved 
 a dynasty. By twelve o'clock he had danced 
 five times with Mabel and twice with Clara. 
 Then there was an interval for supper. All the 
 guests by this time had warmed to their work, 
 and things were going merrily. When Register 
 reached the dining-room with Mabel they found 
 that a discreet management had made a rearrange- 
 ment of the tables. Most of the larger ones had 
 disappeared, and almost all the floor was occupied 
 154
 
 The Spinster 
 
 by prettily decorated little tables for two. A 
 bottle of champagne was suggestively placed upon 
 each. 
 
 Register did not order the bottle he found in 
 front of him to be opened. It would have been 
 entirely foreign to his nature meekly to accept a 
 forced card or to admit that there was anyone in 
 the world who was capable of choosing his wine 
 for him. He called for the wine list and ordered 
 another brand. 
 
 " Take that away/' he said to the waiter, with 
 a contemptuous indication of the bottle on the 
 table. 
 
 " It's the best they've got," he said, examining 
 without any conspicuous sign of favour the sub- 
 stitute which had been brought him. " There's 
 no champagne in France." 
 
 " Why, I thought it was made here," said Mabel. 
 ' Yes, but they send it all to England." 
 
 Mabel was not much used to wine, but she felt 
 so exuberantly happy to-night that she let herself 
 yield to his gentle suasion, and drank more than 
 she had ever done before. 
 
 " It will do you good," he said, as he filled her 
 glass for the third time. " Besides, it's a kind- 
 ness. None but a heathen would leave any cham- 
 pagne in a bottle, so, if you wouldn't do your 
 share, I might be sorry to-morrow morning." 
 
 Before they had finished supper the band 
 155
 
 The Spinster 
 
 started again. The strains of an English waltz 
 which at one time had been a great favourite 
 " Queen of my Heart " floated into the room. 
 
 " Oh, I must go !" cried Mabel, springing up. 
 " I love this dear old thing. Come along !" 
 
 Register followed her almost at a run, laughing 
 like a boy. He caught her before she reached 
 the ballroom, and whirled her through the wide 
 entrance. His spirits had risen with hers with 
 the wine, with the glamour of the dance, with the 
 music and perfume. He held her differently from 
 before more closely and intimately, more per- 
 suasively. Hitherto he had danced : now he was 
 making love urgent love in every movement, 
 in the clasp of his arm, in the bend of his form to 
 her, in the nearness of his face. 
 
 Whether it was the wine she had drunk, or the 
 warmth of the room, or that sudden significant 
 pressure on her waist after a few turns Mabel 
 felt dizzy. 
 
 " I must stop," she said ; " I can't go on ; I 
 must sit down." 
 
 People were crowding the hall and the vesti- 
 bules. He took her up a flight of stairs to a wide 
 corridor on the first-floor. Here it was quiet. 
 As on the floor below, palms and plants had been 
 placed about, and some of the furniture from the 
 salon had been brought there. Mabel sank upon 
 a big settee, and dropped her head back among 
 156
 
 The Spinster 
 
 the cushions upon the shoulder. Register was 
 standing behind. Spontaneously he bent over to 
 kiss her, and in that second there flamed upon her 
 mind the picture which, more than any other 
 picture in the world, had spoken to her. This 
 this that was happening was " Vertige." There 
 was nothing wanting. The same setting, the 
 same attitudes, the same emotions. It was not 
 a copy of a picture ; it was the picture itself. It 
 was " Vertige." 
 
 His lips were pressed upon hers. She was 
 giddy ; she could not see ; she only could hear 
 the music and feel that he was kissing her. 
 
 " I will kiss the soul out of you or into you," 
 he said tensely on her lips. " Can't you hear 
 what those fiddles are saying ?" 
 
 There was a strange, strained, almost savage 
 quality in his voice, as if it were struggling through 
 twisted cords. 
 
 And all the time the haunting lilt of the old 
 waltz crept from below, through the palms, 
 through the flowers, through the perfume, and 
 stung her ears. " Then why should we wait till 
 to-morrow ?" cried the strings of the violins, with 
 mystified, plaintive interrogation. They whis- 
 pered, they wailed, they insisted, they shrieked: 
 
 " For prudence may come with the light. 
 Then why should we wait till to-morrow ? 
 You are queen of my heart to-night." 
 
 157
 
 The Spinster 
 
 One of his hands that were about her was 
 clasped, and suddenly a shiver passed through 
 her. She did not know whether it was a shiver 
 of joy, or of fear, or of shock. He took her into 
 protective arms to calm and reassure her. The 
 fierce fervour of a moment before gave place to 
 soothing, sheltering tenderness. He laid his 
 cheek to hers. Then he whispered to her. 
 
 She was weak, she was overstrung, she was 
 intoxicated, she was in a trance, she only knew 
 that her lover's lips were on her ear. The violins 
 were still telling her that " prudence may come 
 with the light." " Love is knocking, knocking, 
 knocking," they urged, with exquisite pleading, 
 " once in a whole life long. Seize it, seize it, for 
 prudence may come with the light." 
 
 Register whispered again. She said, " No." 
 There were no angels to tell her. She only said 
 " No." 
 
 158
 
 Chapter X 
 
 WHEN Mabel woke the next morning, after a few 
 hours of sleep, won at last from exhaustion, it 
 was with the feeling that she would find herself 
 in a new environment. She knew, even before 
 she was quite conscious, that something had hap- 
 pened. But the room was the same the one to 
 which she had become accustomed during the last 
 week or two her eyes rested familiarly upon the 
 green mosquito-blind drawn over the open win- 
 dow. Then she remembered. 
 
 She lay for a long time perfectly still. A sense 
 of awe awe so profound, so searching, that it 
 amounted almost to dread held her being in 
 motionless thraldom. In those first moments one 
 thought, and one thought only, impressed itself 
 upon her brain. Things could never again be the 
 same as they had been before. There was no 
 power on earth which could make them the same. 
 For good or ill, she had crossed a bridge that had 
 broken behind her. Her life henceforth would 
 be over ground from which the sunshine or the 
 shadow of that crossing could never be removed. 
 
 159
 
 The Spinster 
 
 By degrees the awe gave place to peaceful con- 
 templation of the wonderful forces which govern 
 human affairs and impel men and women to pre- 
 destined ends ; and that, again by degrees, to 
 thankfulness. Register would marry her now ; 
 he must marry her ; no other issue was conceiv- 
 able. Something cosmic had come to pass which 
 had shattered all antecedent calculations. Indeed, 
 by her reckoning, she was married to him already. 
 The overt record of the marriage, which should 
 make it manifest to the world, was all that 
 remained. 
 
 She did not blink the fact that this consumma- 
 tion was not of his deliberate seeking. He had 
 been driven to it, in face of all that he had 
 previously said to her, by sudden ungovernable 
 impulse. But she was sure that she could make 
 it so that he would not regret it. She was abso- 
 lutely, fearlessly confident of her ability to minister 
 to his happiness. She understood him as no 
 woman ever had understood him, or ever would. 
 She would submit to his outbursts of temper, to 
 his sulks, to his eccentricities, to his rebuffs, to his 
 neglect, without retorting and without weakening 
 in her allegiance. By that very submission she 
 would draw him closer to her and closer. The 
 wounds he inflicted would be the bonds that 
 would hold him ; he would always return to him- 
 self and to her. Her life should be devoted to 
 1 60
 
 The Spinster 
 
 proving to him that he had not taken a false step. 
 She had not the superficial attractions which 
 make women desirable to men, but she was a 
 woman in her very essence. She would keep him 
 glad that he had a wife a wife to whom he 
 could bring his cares, who would tend him when 
 he was ill or unhappy with unwavering love, and 
 of whose live and sensitive sympathy all through 
 on every plane of his being he could never be 
 in doubt. 
 
 She had her coffee upstairs, and when she came 
 down about ten she did not see him in the hall 
 or in the precincts of the hotel. She drew a breath 
 of relief. She had looked, not with hope, but 
 with apprehension. She did not want to meet 
 him first in the presence of other people. It was 
 tactful of him to have avoided such a difficult 
 position, and she felt grateful to him. She 
 thought he might have left a note for her, appoint- 
 ing a meeting-place. She inquired at the Bureau, 
 but there was none. 
 
 She hardly knew what to do. It seemed as if 
 the world had stopped, as if it were in a state of 
 suspension, till she saw him. It was impossible 
 to proceed in the ordinary way with ordinary 
 things to go and sit on the veranda, for instance, 
 and write letters. Clara was not yet down. She 
 was always late, and this morning particularly, 
 after a dance, she could not be expected before 
 
 161 L
 
 The Spinster 
 
 lunch-time. Hugh, in the course of some restless 
 wandering, she saw eventually, sitting in a back 
 corner of one of the verandas, smoking a pipe and 
 reading a magazine. He was comfortably settled 
 in a wicker chair, with his feet on another. She 
 did not disturb him. She knew he would be in 
 the middle of an exciting story in the Windsor 
 Magazine or the Strand. He liked them, because 
 they kept the interest alive, and rounded things 
 off, in his own words, with " a little bit of love 
 at the end." His reading was never exhausting. 
 He read, as he plainly told anyone who might be 
 interested to know, for his amusement, and for no 
 other purpose whatever. 
 
 ? She sat down and watched the people passing 
 in the road. What did men usually do in the 
 morning ? He might be walking in the Forest, 
 trusting to her intuition to know. No, that 
 would be absurd, when there were miles of it. 
 Perhaps he had strolled down to Paris Plage, 
 intending to come back when the hotel was quiet. 
 She thought she would ask the concierge. She 
 waited until at last there was a moment when the 
 knot of people, constantly about his table with 
 multitudinous interrogatories, had ceased from 
 troubling, and then stepped up to him with her 
 question. It was curious how difficult it had be- 
 come to make any inquiry about Horace Register. 
 The concierge was always very affable, very 
 162
 
 The Spinster 
 
 obliging. His professional life was spent in a 
 continuous round of urbanity. Everyone was his 
 particular friend, his private crony. " Yes he 
 remembered Mistake Register had gone out 
 certainly Mistaire Register had gone out it 
 would be about half-past nine he had ordered 
 a taxi and he had gone to the golf. Yes, about 
 half -past nine, in a taxi, he had gone. Twopence- 
 halfpenny twenty-five that is right / will 
 stamp it." The last remark was addressed to 
 another of his particular friends who had come up 
 behind Mabel. 
 
 She returned to her seat. Now that she had 
 constrained herself to ask, she remembered that 
 he had told her yesterday that he intended to 
 play golf that morning. He was rather keen 
 about it, and almost arrogantly confident of his 
 ability to win against a man who had previously 
 beaten him. She marvelled, judging from her 
 own emotions, that he should still be able 
 promptly to keep that appointment, when so 
 much had intervened. It was that power of 
 detaching themselves from their personal feelings, 
 she ruminated, which enabled men to carry on 
 the affairs of the world in the smooth, methodical 
 way they did. 
 
 Unless he had ordered his taxi to return for 
 him, he would walk back by the short cut through 
 the Forest. Once or twice she herself had walked 
 
 163
 
 The Spinster 
 
 with him that way. She thought this would be 
 the means of return he would choose. It was 
 possible, even probable, that he had counted upon 
 her remembering that he had told her he would 
 be playing golf and would expect her to come and 
 meet him on his way back. A little thrill swept 
 through her. It would be the first time she had 
 gone to meet her husband. 
 
 She proceeded to make a calculation. If he 
 had left the hotel at half-past nine, he could hardly 
 hope to begin his round before ten. On a crowded 
 course it would take nearly two hours and a half 
 to get round. So, at the earliest, it would be 
 half-past twelve when he started to walk back. 
 
 She waited till twelve, and then went upstairs 
 to put on her hat. She spent a long time before 
 the mirror much longer than she was accustomed 
 to spend trying to make herself look as attrac- 
 tive as she could. When she set out it was half- 
 past twelve. Clara had still failed to make her 
 appearance, Hugh was still reading on the 
 veranda. The track across the forest was sandy, 
 and it rose, again and again, on steep ridges. 
 But she did not notice these things ; her mind 
 was engrossed with thoughts of the approaching 
 meeting. At every corner, and from the crest of 
 every little hill, she expected to see him. When 
 she had covered what she supposed to be about 
 half the distance he had not come in sight. She 
 164
 
 The Spinster 
 
 passed strange men occasionally, and one or two 
 women, but there was no sign of Horace Register. 
 She dropped down into another hollow and 
 climbed to the top of another hill, and still the 
 path lay blank before her. She could pick it 
 out for a long way, because trees along the route 
 were splashed with white. From that point she 
 proceeded more slowly. Expectation was fading : 
 to have seen him now would have been a joyous 
 surprise. At last she came to a road a broad, 
 tarred highroad. On the other side of it was the 
 golf-course. 
 
 She went no further. To have chased him upon 
 the course would not only have been undignified, 
 but would have defeated the object with which 
 she had come : it would have ensured, in pecu- 
 liarly exacting circumstances, the public meeting 
 she was anxious to avoid. After resting for a 
 time, she rose and went back to the Hermitage. 
 There remained the chance that he had returned 
 by taxi ; but when she reached the hotel very 
 late for lunch he had not arrived. That meant 
 that he was staying at the golf club for an after- 
 noon round. More than ever it seemed to her 
 wonderful that he could so completely subdue 
 the stirring sense of fundamental change to the 
 current amusements of his everyday life. 
 
 " My dear, where have you been ?" asked Clara, 
 who was finishing lunch. 
 
 165
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " I went for a walk in the forest," she an- 
 swered. " I suppose I must have gone too far. 
 I forgot the time." 
 
 " You must have some of the lobster ; it's very 
 good. Where is Mr. Register ?" 
 
 " I don't know. . . . Oh, well, I do know," she 
 corrected, after a moment. " He is playing 
 golf." 
 
 The tone and the manner, rather than the 
 words, made Clara look at her suddenly with 
 quizzical amusement. " Have you fallen out ?" 
 she asked, in a lively tone. 
 
 " Oh, Clara " Mabel stopped, and then 
 
 went on again. " I suppose it's absurd of me, 
 but I wish you wouldn't talk in that way. It's 
 like making big things little, or little things 
 big. . . . I'm not quite sure which." 
 
 " How silly you are !" Clara was slightly 
 annoyed. " You have a perfect right to amuse 
 yourself. I don't blame you I should do the 
 same in your place. But you ought to be able 
 to stand a little joking." 
 
 " You know quite well I can do that. I can't 
 make you understand." 
 
 " No, you can't," said Clara plainly. She 
 laughed, but still with a spice of resentment. 
 
 A moment or two later she got up and went 
 out, stopping to exchange a few smiling remarks 
 with people at other tables acquaintances she 
 166
 
 The Spinster 
 
 had made at the hotel on her way to the door. 
 Mabel felt relieved ; she could not eat while the 
 world was suspended, and a complete loss of 
 appetite, after a walk, would have provided a 
 plain target for Clara's raining chaff. 
 
 Subsequently she made a further calculation. 
 It pointed to the probability that Register would 
 be crossing the Forest about half-past four ; but 
 this time she did not wait till then and go all the 
 way to meet him. She went early in the afternoon 
 to a spot about midway between the hotel and 
 the golf club, and sat down on a hillside over- 
 looking the path. She had brought a book with 
 her, but as time passed, and approached nearer 
 and nearer to half-past four, she could not read. 
 Again and again she drew long breaths with diffi- 
 culty. It was not now that she was anxious lest 
 he should not come : it was that she was nervous 
 more nervous than she had believed she had it 
 in her to be at the sure prospect of meeting him. 
 
 There was a little hill to the right, which she 
 was watching. A tree just on its crest a tree 
 with a straighter stem than most of its neigh- 
 bours had a big white splodge upon it. It was 
 here that people walking from the direction of the 
 golf club first came into view. Every five minutes, 
 perhaps, with a leap and halt of her pulses, she 
 would see a head appear over that brow, and then 
 a whole form. 
 
 167
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Her book lay open at the heading of a chapter. 
 She read the first sentence so often, mechanically, 
 that it rang in her brain : " Although it blew 
 hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the passage 
 of that river is commonly calm." Another head 
 rose over the ridge. Then with odd suddenness, 
 it seemed to her Horace Register appeared on 
 the brow, and the next moment was coming 
 rapidly down the slope. 
 
 Now that she was relieved of her suspense the 
 blood flooded through her veins in a mad rush, and 
 she found herself possessed by terrible, debilita- 
 ting embarrassment. It was almost painful in 
 its intensity, like nothing she had felt in all her 
 life before. He was still some fifty yards away, 
 and he had not yet seen her. By an effort which 
 called out the last reserves of her moral strength, 
 she managed to make this feeling temporarily 
 subservient to her will, and rose and went towards 
 him. If she had not done so he might have passed 
 without seeing her. 
 
 She still felt unspeakably shy, but when she 
 got near him she forced herself somehow to look 
 up and to smile happily through blushes. Then 
 her heart felt like lead. He was not coming 
 towards her with the eager haste of a bridegroom, 
 to comfort her and chase away the silly distress. 
 He seemed slightly disconcerted, almost as if he 
 would have liked to have avoided her. 
 168
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " What good luck," he said, in a tone and with 
 a smile which both lacked the quickening spark 
 of his usual spontaneity, " to run across you like 
 this." 
 
 Mabel realised that she must not, if she was to 
 keep control of herself, look one foot beyond the 
 actual passing present beyond each word as he 
 uttered it. 
 
 " Didn't you expect to see me ?" she asked, in 
 a level voice, pregnant, despite herself, with un- 
 spoken reproach. " Where did you expect to 
 meet me ?" 
 
 "Where?" He laughed uneasily. "Where 
 do we usually meet ? In the hotel, I suppose." 
 
 " After all ?" 
 
 He suddenly attempted to take her arm and to 
 walk along with her. " Come along," he said. 
 " Let's have a talk. What's the matter ?" 
 
 She kept her arm close to her side, so that there 
 was no loop for his hand. " Don't you realise 
 that your manner is incomprehensible ? I came 
 here because to meet in the hotel would have put 
 us into a false position. You are talking as if 
 to-day were the same as yesterday." 
 
 " Wcfl, of course there is a difference, I'm 
 glad to say," he replied, with the same forced air 
 of lightness. " I'm not likely to forget it. We 
 are better pals than we were." 
 
 " You must not talk to me in that tone, 
 169
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Horace," she said, still forcing herself to make 
 no assumption, and speaking with quiet firmness. 
 ' ' That is a tone you would use to a woman you 
 didn't respect." 
 
 Register was considerably disconcerted by her 
 unfaltering attitude by its unbending faith in 
 his and her own dignity of purpose. " We had 
 better have it out," he said suddenly. " It's no 
 good beating about the bush. What do you ex- 
 pect is going to happen ?" 
 
 " There is only one possible thing that can 
 happen. We have burnt our boats." 
 
 " You don't mean get married ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why, I've told you over and over again, till 
 you have accused me of repeating it ad nauseam, 
 that nothing would induce me to marry again." 
 
 " That was before." Her voice trembled a 
 little. It was becoming very hard for her to 
 keep up her courage. The humiliating truth, 
 seek still to ignore it as she might, was forcing 
 itself into her brain, word by word, as it fell from 
 his lips. 
 
 " Before ! Do you suppose that what has 
 happened since makes any difference ?" 
 
 ' You mustn't say it doesn't !" she cried out, 
 no longer attempting to control her voice. " You 
 mustn't ! You cannot !" 
 
 ' You are losing grip of your sense of propor- 
 170
 
 The Spinster 
 
 tion," he said. He laid a hand on her with the 
 idea of soothing her. " For goodness' sake, let's 
 keep our heads. It's not like you to be hysteri- 
 cal." 
 
 She stopped and turned her face to him. The 
 pain in her eyes startled for a moment even him. 
 She could only just manage to speak. " Have 
 you the faintest conception how much I have 
 believed in you, trusted you, loved you ?" 
 
 Standing facing her, he took her hands. She 
 let them lie, cold and limp, in his. " Why have 
 you given me so much ?" he said. " Why will 
 you women always give so much ? I'm not 
 worth it." 
 
 " To me you are." 
 
 " I didn't seek it. I sought something, but 
 much less." 
 
 " A woman can't give less." 
 
 " I believe you are right," he said. 
 
 A flicker of hope trembled in her face. She 
 dropped her eyes. " So you know what I have 
 given. Won't you take it ?" 
 
 " Well, but haven't I taken it ?" 
 
 " No, you have taken the ' much less ' that was 
 part of it." She was still looking down. Some 
 seconds passed in silence, and then she went on 
 fighting with all her courage, she lowered herself 
 to plead : " I shan't be a bother to you, worry 
 you, vex you. I understand your nature. I only 
 
 171
 
 The Spinster 
 
 want to be allowed to belong to you and to look 
 after you." 
 
 There was a further interval of silence, an 
 interval which seemed much longer than it really 
 was. Then he suddenly dropped her hands. 
 " It's no good, Mabel," he said. " I feel a beast, 
 but, you see, I've been through it, and you 
 haven't. It would be a fatal mistake." 
 
 She looked up swiftly, desperately, her eyes 
 now starting with the incontrollable tears. " But 
 you must " her voice was breaking " you've 
 no choice." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " After what has happened." 
 
 He was becoming irritated with her. " If I 
 had to marry for that," he said brutally, " I 
 should have a good many wives." 
 
 Mabel still made a struggle, but the callous 
 words, ringing in her ears, were too much for 
 her. Her head slowly bowed, her hands went 
 over her face, her shoulders shook. It was not 
 the light taunt in his speech, it was the over- 
 whelming disappointment and disillusion, no 
 longer to be stayed from full realisation, which 
 crushed her. 
 
 " Oh, good heavens !" exclaimed Register, dis- 
 tinctly shocked ; " I never expected this from 
 you. I'm sorry I said that. It was rather beastly. 
 Don't cry, old girl." 
 
 172
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabel could not speak. She sank down upon 
 a little sandy knoll beside the path. Her forti- 
 tude once broken, she realised that she must 
 weep, and continue to weep, till she won relief 
 from exhaustion. As yet her grief was centred 
 solely, utterly, in her loss of him. Even now, in 
 his brutality, in his callousness, she loved him. 
 If he had taken a stick and beaten her, she would 
 have loved him. The loss of her own position 
 before the world, the place to which his words 
 had relegated her, the hard things that would be 
 said of her, had as yet no lodgment in her stricken 
 mind. 
 
 After a time Register moved a little away 
 from her and lighted a pipe. That was not pure 
 heartlessness on his part for this convulsing 
 breakdown of a woman who was not a child, 
 and who was not a sentimental little fool, did 
 touch him but he, too, realised that there was 
 nothing for it but to allow the paroxysm to run 
 its course. 
 
 At last Mabel rose. She had no idea how long 
 she had been sitting on the hummock ; it might 
 have been hours. She was almost surprised to 
 see Register still standing there. But perhaps it 
 was fortunate that he had not gone. There were 
 things to be said, and it was as well that they 
 should be said at once. Her eyes were red, but 
 she was outwardly calm.
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " You won't marry me ?" She had to sink to 
 the question. 
 
 Register was playing no more with words. 
 " Absolutely no," he answered. 
 
 " Then you must go." 
 
 " Go where ?" 
 
 " Go away from here." 
 
 " But why ?" His voice became almost plead- 
 ing. " For your own sake, wouldn't it be better 
 not to have a split ? I haven't changed, and 
 neither have you. We were carried off our feet 
 last night, but that would only be a warning to 
 us to be more on our guard in future." 
 
 " No," said Mabel firmly ; " the position, if you 
 stayed, would be intolerable, impossible. It 
 would be an insult for you to stay." 
 
 He smiled, and for the first time during that 
 interview it was a spontaneous smile, with some- 
 thing in it of humorous, impertinent quality. 
 " So you turn me out bag and baggage ?" 
 
 " You must go," she said simply, again. 
 
 " And that's no insult ?" 
 
 She did not reply. 
 
 " You mean me to feel mean ?" 
 
 " I don't know how you will feel." 
 
 " How much grace do you give me ? When 
 must I leave ?" 
 
 " We shall part now. To-morrow, when I come 
 down, I must not see you." 
 174
 
 The Spinster 
 
 There was a short silence. 
 
 " Then this is ' good-bye '?" he said. 
 
 " Yes. You had better walk on." 
 
 " But won't you relent the least bit ?" His 
 old manner of boyish, eager appeal came into his 
 tone. " Won't you even say, ' Good-bye '?" 
 
 " Good-bye," she said. 
 
 " And shake hands ?" He held out his own. 
 
 She made a struggle. " I can't," she said. 
 
 Register was not without understanding. He 
 dropped his hand. " Well, never mind. You 
 won't believe it, but I'm very sorry about this 
 just as sorry as I know how. Perhaps we shall 
 meet again. At any rate, I shan't forget you. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 She said nothing, and he quickened his pace and 
 left her. Very soon he was out of sight. 
 
 By the time she reached the hotel Mabel could 
 hardly lift her feet up the steps. She was thank- 
 ful beyond measure that neither Clara nor Hugh 
 was in the hall. She was tempted to plead illness 
 to escape the necessity to appear at dinner, but 
 that would have involved a visit from Clara 
 probably rather a perfunctory one, but still a 
 visit, and questions. So, after an hour in her 
 room, during which she removed the traces of 
 her fit of weeping and attained outward com- 
 posure, she put on her best dress and went down ; 
 and she managed to get through the meal with- 
 
 175
 
 The Spinster 
 
 out provoking a light, excruciating inquisition 
 from either of her relatives. Clara looked at her 
 once or twice with a glint of curiosity, but she 
 said nothing. Perhaps the little passage at lunch 
 had put a check upon her tongue. Hugh talked 
 golf, and baccarat, and English horse-racing. 
 
 As soon as they had gone to the Casino she 
 retired. It seemed to her that she did not sleep, 
 even for a few seconds, all that night. Now that 
 she could look at the incidents of the day in 
 retrospect, she could not understand by what 
 process of temporarily blurred and aberrant judg- 
 ment she had come to suppose for a moment that 
 Register would marry her. He had acted per- 
 fectly consistently with his character, as she knew 
 it. If it had been the case of some other woman, 
 if she had been able to look at the circumstances 
 without a vital and distracting personal interest, 
 she saw clearly enough now that she would have 
 been in no doubt of the way he would regard the 
 events of the previous evening. 
 
 Through the hours of that night, as she tried 
 to wring sleep from misery, when again and again 
 she remembered that in the morning he would 
 vanish from her circle and leave no trace behind 
 him, she yearned desperately to go to him, to 
 throw herself at his feet abjectly, and to agree 
 to accept anything anything that he would 
 offer. 
 
 176
 
 The Spinster 
 
 In the morning she dragged herself to the 
 window and watched. She had tried to drink 
 some coffee, but most of it remained still un- 
 touched on the tray. She knew that the hotel 
 motor-bus, which ran in connection with the boat 
 train, always came to the door about ten. People 
 were passing in and out, occasional taxis and 
 cabs rolled up and rolled away, but there was not 
 much movement in the road at that hour. She 
 was almost sick with waiting, when at last the 
 heavy motor-bus turned into the semicircular 
 space before the hotel and stopped at the main 
 entrance. The conductor went inside, and pre- 
 sently some luggage was brought out and placed 
 upon the roof. It was portmanteaux and bags 
 and golf-clubs a man's luggage. The obsequious 
 and expectant concourse of hotel servants which 
 signifies a departure had assembled about the 
 door, as if from nowhere. 
 
 There was a little further delay, and then 
 Horace Register appeared. He was talking and 
 laughing, and shaking hands, as he came out, 
 with a knot of people who had waited to see him 
 off, for he had made himself popular in the hotel. 
 Until she actually saw him, Mabel's heart had 
 clung to some vague, inexpressible feeling half 
 hope, half fear that he might disobey her. 
 
 But there was no doubt now. His luggage was 
 on the roof of the 'bus, he was paying his way 
 
 177 M
 
 The Spinster 
 
 through the gauntlet of the bowing servants ; the 
 next moment he was climbing to the seat behind 
 the driver. He was the only passenger that 
 morning ; it was mid-season, and few went or 
 came. The conductor jumped up into his place, 
 and the driver moved a lever. Register waved 
 his hand to his friends, for an instant his eyes 
 searched the windows of the hotel she did not 
 know if he saw her and then the 'bus gathered 
 impetus and ran quickly out of sight. 
 
 Mabel turned from the window. The sense of 
 sight seemed to have left her suddenly. With 
 arms stretched out like a blind woman, she felt 
 her way to the bed. An hour later she was still 
 kneeling beside it, her head buried in her arms. 
 
 I 7 3
 
 Chapter XI 
 
 AFTER her return to London with the Cavours, a 
 few weeks later, Mabel discovered, considerably 
 to her surprise and unutterably to her dismay, 
 that the events of the night of the hotel ball 
 could not be kept permanently from the know- 
 ledge of her friends. Time would call her as a 
 witness in her own impeachment. The humilia- 
 tion and alarm begotten of this fresh factor were 
 so great that they obliterated or at least blurred 
 for a time her stinging grief. 
 
 Hugh had taken a small suite of rooms in one 
 of the large hotels, and the intention was to 
 remain there a week before they all returned to 
 Blanford. Mabel saw that, in the new circum- 
 stances, her own return there was out of the 
 question. How to avoid it, how in any case to 
 meet the difficulties with which she was faced, 
 were problems which stood before her like great 
 blank, forbidding notes of interrogation. After 
 grievous hours of perturbed thought, and when 
 she had ascertained beyond doubt that she was 
 not making a mistake, she perceived that the 
 
 179
 
 The Spinster 
 
 only course open to her was to tell Clara the 
 truth, and trust to her good offices. Unless, 
 perhaps, it were Hugh himself, there was no one 
 to whom she would less willingly have gone with 
 such a confidence, had she had a choice. She 
 knew she could expect no shred of sympathy. 
 Clara's aid could only be hoped for in so far as 
 her own interests would be disturbed by its 
 refusal. 
 
 She waited for an opportunity when Hugh 
 was absent. This occurred on the fourth after- 
 noon of their stay. She and her sister-in-law 
 had returned from a shopping expedition, and 
 were alone in their sitting-room. Clara was 
 reading a novel ; Mabel herself was doing 
 nothing ; she could not bring her mind to 
 any employment. After a time Clara noticed 
 this lack of occupation, and gave her an 
 opening. 
 
 " Haven't you anything to read ?" she asked. 
 " What is the matter ?" 
 
 " I can't read," said Mabel. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because I'm troubled." 
 
 Clara put her book down on her lap. " I 
 suppose it's about Register ?" she said. " I've 
 noticed you have been down in the dumps since 
 he went away, but I haven't said anything." 
 
 " Yes," Mabel admitted. 
 180
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Well, my dear, surely you didn't expect him 
 to marry you ? Any woman with eyes in her 
 head could see that he wasn't a marrying sort 
 in fact, he told me so himself. I never thought 
 you could imagine anything else, or I would have 
 warned you. If that's the trouble, there is 
 nothing for it but to get over it, as many women 
 have had to do before." 
 
 She would have liked to add that it was very 
 unreasonable and foolish of Mabel to suppose 
 that any man would marry her, but she found 
 sufficient charity to keep the remark off her 
 tongue. 
 
 " There is something more," said Mabel. 
 
 Clara got a start. In the case of almost any 
 other woman she would have jumped to the right 
 conclusion, but she was so far from anticipating 
 it in her sister-in-law, that her mind sped in 
 search of an alternative explanation. 
 
 " My dear, what on earth do you mean ?" she 
 asked, with some anxious sharpness. 
 
 Then Mabel told her. 
 
 Clara sprang to her feet, letting the book fall 
 to the floor, flushed with annoyance. " Well, 
 you are a fool !" she cried. " Oh, you are a 
 fool !" Her indignant anger real enough was 
 tinctured possibly with a little private astonish- 
 ment that Mabel had proved herself capable of 
 attracting a man so far. 
 
 181
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Clara's standard of ethics, it may be said, was 
 typical of that of a large section of the inhabitants 
 of this planet. She believed that our main pur- 
 pose in the world is to enjoy ourselves, and she 
 placed no embargo upon anyone's particular con- 
 ception of enjoyment ; but she had an immense, 
 almost a grovelling, respect for the Eleventh 
 Commandment. She herself was lightly and 
 heartily capable of almost any sin, but she would 
 take care that no one got to know of it, and she 
 expected an equal discretion in others. She 
 bowed down before the graven image of Public 
 Opinion, and that was the only deity she feared. 
 If Mabel had come to her and told her, in sisterly 
 conclave, that she had been circumspectly wicked 
 at Le Touquet, she would have laughed, and she 
 would have kept the secret and have loyally 
 stood by her against the inquisitive. What she 
 resented, what raised her to arms of animosity, 
 almost of contempt, was that Mabel had not 
 provided that her secret should be safe. She had 
 committed the unpardonable offence of being 
 found out. " Do what you like," was the prin- 
 ciple upon which she guided her life, " but do it 
 secretly." 
 
 " Do you suppose I have any doubt of it ?" 
 said Mabel, in answer to her flat dictum. 
 
 Clara was pacing about the room, strongly and 
 candidly agitated. " A fool ! a fool ! a fool !" 
 182
 
 The Spinster 
 
 she repeated, emphasising each repetition by the 
 forcefulness of her tread. 
 
 " I thought something had gone wrong," she 
 went on vehemently, " when he ran off in such a 
 hurry, but I never expected this. He showed 
 himself to have a great deal more sense than you, 
 as anyone would imagine. He knew there was 
 something in the wind, and he took care to get 
 out of the draught." 
 
 " That's not true, Clara." 
 
 " It doesn't matter whether it's true or 
 not." She dropped back into her chair with 
 an emphatic bump. " You've just done for your- 
 self absolutely and that's all there is to be 
 said." 
 
 " But I want you to advise me about the im- 
 mediate future," said Mabel. " Something has 
 to be done." 
 
 " If you had asked for my advice a little 
 earlier," Clara replied, " I might have been able 
 
 to help you. But now " She made no bones 
 
 about her opinion. " Honestly, my dear, if I 
 were in your position, I should go and drown 
 myself. I can see nothing else for it." 
 
 She was flatly in earnest. If Mabel had said, 
 " That is what I must do," and had gone out of 
 the room, she would have made no attempt to 
 restrain her, and the matter would not have lain 
 on her conscience. 
 
 183
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabel had thought of it as what woman, 
 similarly placed, has not ? 
 
 " I'm not going to take my life," she said, 
 " wretched as it is. I'm going to make a fight 
 for it." 
 
 " You can't go back to Blanford." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And you've got no money." 
 
 " I've saved a little." 
 
 Clara pondered for a few moments. " I can 
 do nothing, my dear," she said, as the result. 
 " Hugh will have to be told." 
 
 " Will you tell him ?" Mabel was speaking 
 with outward steadiness. 
 
 " Oh yes, I'll tell him. I'll spare you that, but 
 it's all I can spare you. You'll have a pretty bad 
 time, my dear." 
 
 Later that evening she came to Mabel's room. 
 
 " Hugh wants to see you now," she said. " I 
 told you what to expect," she added. 
 
 There was no sympathy in her voice. Come 
 from her angry spouse, she was angry herself, 
 and ready to vent her anger. 
 
 Mabel went. 
 
 She found Hugh standing with his back to the 
 fireplace in the sitting-room. The first glance 
 was enough to tell her that he was beside himself 
 with passion. If you scratch a sportsman, you 
 will commonly find a prig. You will find, more- 
 184
 
 The Spinster 
 
 over, in especial virulence, a distinctive variety 
 of the prig the sex-prig. Hugh was fond of 
 relating in the smoke-room, with a high smack 
 of devildom, stories which he had culled from 
 sporting weeklies and stories which were un- 
 printable anywhere ; but if the matters which he 
 turned into jest crossed his path in the actual and 
 concrete, particularly if they crossed his path in 
 a way which affected him personally, he put on 
 an ephod and became the stern embodiment of 
 all the virtues, except the virtue of temperance. 
 Like his wife, he probably worshipped at the 
 shrine of Public Opinion ; but he was less sincere 
 than she, and represented to himself that he was 
 influenced by a high sense of morality. 
 
 Almost before Mabel had had time to close the 
 door his first words were flung at her : " You 
 thing !" 
 
 It was evident that it was only with difficulty 
 that he restrained himself from using a more 
 forcible phrase. 
 
 She faced him quietly. " Do you suppose," 
 she said, " that I have so little to bear already 
 that I need more ? I have done a very foolish 
 thing, and I am facing the music, as you would 
 say. I've been facing the music for the last 
 month." 
 
 " That's not the point. If it pleases you to 
 walk in slime, you may, so long as it's only your 
 
 185
 
 The Spinster 
 
 own skirts you foul. But we've got to suffer for 
 this ; we've got to pay for this." 
 
 " You know you must know," Mabel urged, 
 " how bitterly I feel, above all things, that what 
 I have done, what I have suffered, and have to 
 suffer, may react upon you and yours, upon 
 Andie and everybody. For repaying your kind- 
 ness in taking me to France in such a way, it 
 would be impossible to say, or to begin to say, 
 what I feel. Won't you can't you ? spare me 
 abuse ?" 
 
 " I never thought," he went on, taking no 
 notice, " that I should live to see the day when a 
 sister of mine would fling shame and self-respect 
 to the winds." 
 
 Mabel sank into a seat. She had come with a 
 brave determination to meet him steadily, but 
 his brutal words struck her like physical blows. 
 
 Hugh was far too angry to be moved. " Nice 
 thing for the children," he shouted so loud that 
 Mabel was afraid he would be heard in the hotel 
 " to be told all their lives that their aunt was " 
 
 She shrank back in her chair, shivering, her 
 hands pressed over her ears. 
 
 " All right," he bawled ; "if you are so 
 squeamish, I won't say it ; but it's what you are." 
 
 He glowered at her. " What made you do such 
 a vile thing ?" he demanded fiercely. 
 
 " I loved him," said Mabel. 
 186
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Don't talk sentimental trash. It's rank 
 blasphemy. I always knew that Register fellow 
 was a hound." 
 
 " If you thought that, why didn't you warn me ?" 
 
 " How the devil was I to know that you'd got 
 no sense of shame ? You are old enough, in all 
 conscience, to have learnt the ABC of decent 
 behaviour. You can't shoulder the blame on 
 to me, and don't you try to." 
 
 She said nothing. 
 
 ' There's one thing damned well certain," he 
 went on in the next breath : " he's got to marry 
 you." 
 
 " He won't." 
 
 " Won't !" he sneered. " We'll see about that. 
 I'll take a horsewhip and thrash the life out of 
 him, if he talks about ' won't.' ' 
 
 " I don't know where he is," said Mabel ; " be- 
 sides, I wouldn't marry a man who had to be 
 whipped to the altar." 
 
 " You've no choice, you scum !" 
 
 Like a man who is struck repeatedly in the 
 same place, Mabel had lost the capacity to feel 
 further pain from his verbal violence. 
 
 She met his look steadily. " It's no good 
 thinking about that," she said ; " it's impossible. 
 He didn't deceive me : he told me, again and 
 again, that nothing would induce him to marry 
 a second time." 
 
 187
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " You say he told you that ?" 
 
 "Yes." " 
 
 " And yet " 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Then you are ten thousand times worse than 
 I thought. You hadn't even the common decency 
 to cover yourself with the shred of a promise 
 of marriage." 
 
 " I thought he would marry me." 
 
 " You thought ! Are you an idiot as well as a 
 wanton ? The man told you he wouldn't, he 
 told you in plain words what he was after, and 
 yet you thought ! It almost makes one respect 
 him, beside you." 
 
 He stormed about the room, one hand in his 
 pocket, the other tugging at his heavy ginger 
 moustache, uttering expletives between his teeth. 
 
 " What the devil are you going to do ?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 She brought herself to plead. " Can't you help 
 me, Hugh, instead of turning on me like this ?" 
 
 " Help you ! Damn you ! Yes, I've got to 
 help you, because I shall get spattered with your 
 slime if I don't. If it weren't for that, I'd see 
 you in hell." 
 
 If he had intended to break his sister com- 
 pletely, he was rewarded. She got up and ran 
 towards the door, her face dropping into her 
 hands. 
 
 188
 
 The Spinster 
 
 He caught hold of her and tugged her back. 
 " Don't be an ass. Sit down. Listen to what 
 I've got to say." 
 
 She choked back her tears and returned to her 
 seat. Her face was pale and expressionless. She 
 answered his questions mechanically. 
 
 " You swear you don't know where this scoun- 
 drel is ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " But it would be possible to trace him ?" 
 
 " It may be ; he is probably out of England." 
 
 " If I find him and bring him here with his 
 neck in a whip-thong, will you go to a registry- 
 office ?" 
 
 " No, not if he is brought in that way. But you 
 couldn't bring him." 
 
 He returned to his previous question. " Then 
 what the devil are you going to do ?" 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " I suppose you expect me to do your dirty 
 work ?" 
 
 Again she said nothing. 
 
 " Answer, woman !" 
 
 " There is nothing for me to say," said Mabel. 
 
 " I suppose you expect me to go and tell your 
 mother poor old thing ! Pretty story to hear 
 in her old age ! Probably it will kill her, and 
 then it will be a comfort for you to know you 
 have brought her white hairs to the grave." 
 
 189
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " I don't think you ought to tell her," said 
 Mabel, speaking in the same level, mechanical 
 tone ; " not on my account, but because I think 
 it would be dangerous. She once got very 
 excited when something of the kind was men- 
 tioned about a complete stranger. She would 
 accept my absence with very little explanation." 
 
 " Very fine !" sneered Hugh. " I thought you 
 wanted me to do your dirty work. But I'm not 
 going to screen you ; I'm not going to tell any 
 lies for you." 
 
 " You won't need to tell lies. Simply tell her 
 that I have decided not to return for the present. 
 That will be enough." 
 
 " Thank you. When I want to know the 
 methods of an easy conscience, I shall know where 
 to come for a lesson." 
 
 " If you tell her, I^think you will regret it.' 
 
 " Go to the devil ! And don't come ' regretting 
 it ' over me. Who are you, you canting un- 
 cleanness, to talk about ' regret ' ?" 
 
 Mabel closed her eyes for a moment, and then 
 opened them again. 
 
 " Why don't you answer my question ?" he 
 shouted suddenly. " What the devil are you 
 going to do ?" 
 
 " I must go away." 
 
 " That's easily said ; but where ?" 
 
 " I must find somewhere." 
 190
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " And who's going to pay ? Do you expect 
 me to pay ? Have you got any money ?" 
 
 " I've saved a little." 
 
 " How much ?" 
 
 " Nearly fifty pounds." 
 
 " You'll want it." 
 
 He continued to pace, fuming, about the room. 
 Apparently for a time he forgot her presence. 
 Then he appeared to become aware of her again, 
 sitting perfectly motionless. 
 
 " Get out of my sight. I'm sick of you. You 
 contaminate the air ! I'll go down to Blanford 
 and tell your mother, and then I'll look out some 
 hole and corner where you can hide yourself and 
 your shame." 
 
 She rose, without a word, and went to the door. 
 Before leaving, she turned and said : " I didn't 
 think it was possible for a human being to be 
 more wretched than I was when I came here. 
 You have shown me that it is." 
 
 " Thank Heaven for that !" he shouted, when 
 she had already opened the door. " For my 
 part, I hope you'll never have another happy 
 hour." 
 
 191
 
 Chapter XII 
 
 MABEL had breakfast in her room the next 
 morning. About eleven o'clock there came a 
 knock at her door. She had j ust finished dressing . 
 
 " Come in," she said, expecting it to be Clara. 
 
 The door opened, and, instead of Clara, Andie 
 walked in. 
 
 Her heart leapt to him, with happy surprise, 
 with thankfulness the immeasurable thankful- 
 ness of a parched traveller who comes unex- 
 pectedly upon an oasis and then, in a moment, 
 she felt more ashamed than she had ever felt in 
 her life. She had not been moved to any feeling 
 of that sort either by Clara's contumely or by 
 Hugh's violence, but, when she saw Andie, she 
 felt ashamed. She was sure he knew that that 
 was why he had come. She saw it in his face. 
 
 " Well, Mabs," he said, trying hard, she 
 realised, to put his old spontaneous heartiness into 
 the greeting, and failing quite to manage to do so. 
 
 She was standing by the dressing-table. She 
 turned her face from him and began fingering the 
 trinkets. " I can't look at you," she said. 
 192
 
 The Spinster 
 
 He put his hand on her shoulder, gently, but 
 not lightly. " Oh, that's silly, you know." 
 
 It was the first kindly touch, the first sign of 
 affection or of sympathy, that she had known 
 since the night of the ball. She waited a few 
 seconds to control her voice. Then she said, in 
 a low tone, still playing with the trinkets : " What 
 must you think of me ?" 
 
 He walked across the room and seated himself 
 in an easy-chair. " Well, I'm jolly sorry," he 
 said, " that you've got yourself into such a deuce 
 of a hole." 
 
 " I wish I had remembered you, Andie I wish 
 I had remembered you in time." 
 
 " So do I," he admitted. 
 
 Suddenly she threw herself on her knees before 
 him and dropped her head upon his lap. " Will 
 you ever care for me, or respect me, or believe 
 in me again ?" she cried. 
 
 " Of course I shall. But get up," he said, " and 
 then we can talk." 
 
 She got up slowly and sat near him on one of 
 her trunks. 
 
 " I suppose you have seen Hugh ?" she asked. 
 
 " Seen him ! Rather !" 
 
 " When ?" 
 
 " This morning. He came round to my rooms 
 before I had finished breakfast." 
 
 " To tell you ?" 
 
 193 N
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " He was in a great hurry, wasn't he ?" 
 
 " He wanted me to go to Blanford, but I 
 couldn't, because my exam comes off the day 
 after to-morrow." 
 
 " So what happened ?" 
 
 " He has gone himself." 
 
 " Gone already ?" 
 
 " Yes ; he went by the 10.35." 
 
 Anxiously as she mistrusted his mission, Mabel 
 drew a breath of relief. After the terrible scene 
 of the previous day, it was impossible not to feel 
 that there was some lightening of the suffocating 
 atmosphere, now that Hugh was no longer under 
 the roof. 
 
 " Was he very angry ?" she asked. 
 
 " Angry ? He was raving." 
 
 " And he called me things ?" 
 
 " It doesn't matter what he called you. I 
 didn't take any notice. At first I thought 
 he must have got hold of the wrong end of a 
 story." 
 
 " It seemed so impossible, didn't it ?" 
 
 " WeU, it did." 
 
 Mabel looked down at her hands. " It seems 
 impossible to me," she said. 
 
 " Tell me what happened," asked Andie. 
 
 She was silent for a few moments. " I wonder 
 if you will understand," she said at last, more to 
 194
 
 The Spinster 
 
 herself than to him " if you can possibly, even 
 a little, understand ? It must seem so different 
 in cold words. Do you remember my telling you 
 once that I couldn't look at that picture you had 
 a picture called ' Vertige ' ?" 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I asked you to take it away. I think you 
 were rather surprised. Well, that is what hap- 
 pened that exactly. I was overwrought. I 
 was carried out of myself. I didn't know what 
 I was doing I was intoxicated." 
 
 " How do you mean intoxicated ? You can't 
 mean literally ?" 
 
 " I believe I was, even that, a little but I 
 didn't mean that." 
 
 " But you hardly ever touch anything." 
 " I suppose that was the reason I did that 
 night." There was a short silence. " Can you 
 understand, Andie ?" 
 
 ' Yes, I think so I suppose so. But the man 
 must have been a beast," he added heartily. 
 
 " I think it was almost the same thing with 
 him," said Mabel " not so much so as with me, 
 but something the same. Don't think too badly 
 of him : he doesn't deserve that you should. He 
 is not a preying and ravening beast or a scheming 
 animal, but perhaps everything is fish that comes 
 to his net." 
 
 " I don't see how I can help thinking badly of 
 195
 
 The Spinster 
 
 him," Andie said. "The sort of man who is 
 any good would marry you. And Hugh says he 
 won't." 
 
 " No, he won't," Mabel admitted. " But he 
 never pretended that he had any thought of it : 
 he always said he wouldn't marry again. He was 
 unhappy in his marriage." 
 
 " He must be one thing or the other," persisted 
 Andie. " If he won't marry you, he's a wrong un." 
 
 " I don't know quite how much you mean by 
 that ; but at least he didn't fly in false colours, he 
 is not a hypocrite. I wonder what you would 
 say if you were his brother, instead of mine. 
 Because I'm not a child, and it takes two to make 
 a love affair, doesn't it ?" 
 
 " That's all nonsense, Mabs," exclaimed Andie, 
 with some vehemence. ' You say he is one of 
 those fellows who have knocked about the place, 
 and you may not be a child, but you were just as 
 good you had no knowledge or experience about 
 anything." 
 
 " One can't be in hospital seventeen years 
 without getting to know things," said Mabel, with 
 a faint smile. 
 
 " Of course you are sticking up for him," said 
 Andie. " That's the sort of thing you would do. 
 But it doesn't alter the fact that he's a damned 
 bad lot," he proclaimed, flushing a little. 
 
 " Oh no, Andie." 
 
 196
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Then what *s he, then ?" 
 
 " He's almost an impossible man to define. 
 He is a make-up of odds and ends, like a patch- 
 work quilt some bits red, and some green, and 
 some quite white." 
 
 " I don't care," said Andie, rather fiercely. 
 " I feel I should like to go and give him a good 
 hiding." 
 
 ' You are as bad as Hugh." 
 
 " Oh, Hugh simply gets mad. But say you 
 think this fellow behaved the least bit badly, and 
 I'll rout him out and do it as soon as I get over 
 the exam. I'm not humbugging." 
 
 " Of course I shan't say it." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Can't you guess ?" 
 ' You don't mean you are still keen on him." 
 
 " ' Keen on him ' ! You queer boy ! That's 
 putting it very mildly." 
 
 Then Andie made a profound remark, perhaps 
 the profoundest he had ever made in his life. 
 ' Women are funny folk," he said. 
 
 They remained silent for a few minutes. 
 
 Then Andie spoke again. " What is going to 
 be done ?" he asked. 
 
 " I shall have to go away, of course," Mabel 
 answered. " Andie, I want to ask you some- 
 thing." 
 
 " Yes ?" 
 
 197
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " In a little while everyone will desert me 
 all my friends all the people I thought were my 
 friends everyone." 
 
 " Rubbish 1" 
 
 " No, it is true. When that time comes I 
 want to know will you ? You would have a 
 perfect right to, if you liked." 
 
 " Throw you over ?" 
 
 She looked at him almost for the first time 
 since he had come into the room, she looked 
 him straight in the eyes and answered, firmly, 
 " Yes." 
 
 Andie was not a demonstrative youth. So he 
 covered what he had to say with his old jolly 
 laugh. " No, I shall stick to you all right, old 
 girl," he said, " whatever happens and whatever 
 you do. Don't you worry about that." 
 
 He rose from his seat, and Mabel followed his 
 example. They went into the sitting-room next 
 door, where they found Clara. She was writing 
 letters in a scrawling hand which slanted down 
 the page. A pile of half a dozen, already tossed 
 off at a prodigious speed, lay beside her. 
 
 She turned round in her chair and greeted them 
 with genuine warmth. Things, however momen- 
 tous they might be, slipped easily from her. 
 She had forgotten, for the moment at least, her 
 contemptuous indignation with Mabel, and even 
 the cause of it. 
 
 198
 
 The Spinster 
 
 It came back to her, when a few words had been 
 exchanged, in the trail of the recollection that 
 Hugh had gone to Blanford ; and then they all 
 three realised that his journey was a subject upon 
 which they could not speak. 
 
 " And how goes the world, Andie ?" asked Clara, 
 quickly covering a momentary silence which this 
 perception induced. 
 
 " It begins at ' Greenwood's Conveyancing ' 
 and goes through ' Indermaur's Common Law ' 
 to ' Harris on Crimes,' " said Andie. " That's 
 my world at present." 
 
 ' What an awful one !" laughed Clara. " You 
 must come and take us to the theatre to-night. 
 I'm counting on you now Hugh has gone. I've 
 got the tickets." 
 
 " It can't be done," said Andie. 
 
 " Oh yes, it can, Andie," Mabel urged. " It's 
 not a good thing to work on the eve of an exam ; 
 it's much better to take your mind off it for a 
 few hours. Even your coaches will tell you 
 that. It's no good worrying your brain any 
 more. If you can't pass now, you won't be able 
 to pass on Thursday." 
 
 " But I have to learn my cases," Andie ob- 
 jected. " I have a great long list of them. The 
 only thing possible is to get them by heart at the 
 last moment." 
 
 ' You can do that to-morrow." 
 199
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " What are cases ?" asked Clara. 
 
 " Judicial decisions which show what the law 
 is." 
 
 " How do you mean ' show what the law is ' ?" 
 she inquired further, though she was not much 
 interested. " Isn't it in books ?" 
 
 " Some of it is in Acts of Parliament, but they 
 have to be interpreted. Sometimes the people 
 who make the Acts don't know what they mean 
 themselves, and the judges have to tell them. 
 Then what they say becomes a ' leading case.' ' 
 
 " And, I suppose, before," suggested Clara, " it 
 was a leading question ?" 
 
 " That's rather good," proclaimed Andie, 
 laughing. " But it's not true." 
 
 " What *s a leading question, Andie ?" asked 
 Mabel. 
 
 " It's when counsel, examining a witness, puts 
 the answer he wants into his mouth. If I said 
 to you, ' You got up, didn't you, at ten o'clock 
 this morning ?' that would be a leading question. 
 I ought to say, ' What time did you get up this 
 morning ?' ' 
 
 " Aren't we learning a lot, Mabel ?" cried Clara 
 jocularly. " Now tell us a leading case, and we'll 
 pass you." 
 
 Andie reflected. ' You wouldn't know them. 
 There's the Osborne judgment. Oh yes," he said, 
 " don't you remember the Jackson case, which 
 200
 
 The Spinster 
 
 shows that a wife isn't obliged to live with her 
 husband. You needn't stay with Hugh, unless 
 you like." 
 
 " I should think not," declared Clara, with 
 much animation. " I don't need any case to tell 
 me that." 
 
 " It used to be thought you could be forced 
 to." 
 
 ' Well, it was time such a lunatic's mistake 
 was cleared up. Anyhow, you couldn't hire me 
 to go to the theatre without you now. You 
 know quite enough. I should say you know as 
 much as the Lord Chancellor." 
 
 Andie revolved the matter in his mind. " Well, 
 I dare say Mabel is right," he said. " What 
 time ? 
 
 " You had better come here to dinner at 
 seven." 
 
 " Right you are." 
 
 He held out his hand. 
 
 " Well, I do like that," exclaimed Clara, with 
 vivid indignation. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 " He's trying to shake hands with me. After 
 all this time ! I might be ugly." 
 
 " Oh, sorry," said Andie, and duly kissed her. 
 
 " He's the only man who can, d convenance," 
 affirmed Clara, still deeply aggrieved, " and he 
 always has to be told." 
 
 201
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Late that afternoon there came a telegram 
 from Hugh. Clara read it and made a vocal 
 sound, largely of nasal production, then passed 
 it to Mabel. It was ominously short : 
 
 " Both of you come at once." 
 
 Mabel held it . tightly in her hand. She had 
 turned very pale. " It's mother," she said ; " I 
 was afraid of it. Oh, where is there a Bradshaw ? 
 Perhaps something may still be done. I know 
 her so well." 
 
 " Oh, but this is rotten," exclaimed Clara, who 
 had been engaged with her own thoughts. " How 
 can I possibly go ? We've got tickets for two 
 theatres besides to-night. I shall have to come 
 back anyhow. I haven't had my new dresses 
 fitted." 
 
 202
 
 WHEN they reached Blanford at two o'clock on 
 the following afternoon, there was only the 
 chaff eur on the platform to meet them. 
 ' Where is your master ?" asked Clara. 
 
 "He is at the Dower House, madam," replied 
 the man. " He said, would you go and see him 
 there ?" 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked Clara, slightly 
 fretfully. " Is there something wrong ?" 
 
 " I don't know, madam. That's what Mr. 
 Cavour told me to say." 
 
 " Well, I suppose we had better go and see," 
 she said to Mabel. " The world seems to have 
 gone upside down lately, and it's all your fault, 
 my dear. That's the worst of people trying to 
 do things they don't understand. Is the cart for 
 the luggage here ?" to the chauffeur. 
 
 " Yes, madam." 
 
 " Well, tell him to get the things on at once 
 and not to waste time on the way, because I shall 
 want them as soon as I get back. He can drop 
 Miss Christopherson's trunk at the Dower House." 
 
 203
 
 The Spinster 
 
 To Mabel, who was strung to an acute pitch 
 of painful anxiety, it was marvellous that Clara 
 could talk and behave in this commonplace, 
 irritable way. For her part, she walked quickly 
 out to the waiting car without uttering a word, 
 longing intensely to get to the house, and yet 
 dreading to enter it. Clara took her place beside 
 her, and her straining nerves were tried by a 
 further delay of a few seconds while the chauffeur 
 carefully and unnecessarily covered their knees 
 with a fur rug. 
 
 " At any rate, we shall know the worst now," 
 said Clara, as the car finally got into motion. 
 
 When they entered the hall of the Dower House 
 they were struck by the silence. There was no 
 one in the front room or in the dining-room 
 behind, and no sound of movement or of voices 
 anywhere. The only audible thing was the 
 engine of the car, working outside the door. 
 
 The strain began to tell a little on Clara's 
 nerves. " Stop that noise," she shouted to the 
 chauffeur through the open doorway. 
 
 Then she went into the small sitting-room and 
 rang the bell impatiently. 
 
 " Do tell Mr. Cavour I'm here," she said to 
 the maid who answered it, " and ask him what he 
 wants." 
 
 The maid hesitated. " I don't like to go up," 
 she said, with a frightened look. 
 204
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Oh, this is too much !" exclaimed Clara, now 
 very exasperated, partly in consequence of the 
 unwonted nerve tax and partly because she dis- 
 liked an unusual situation. " If you daren't go 
 yourself, send somebody else. I don't know 
 what's come to everybody." 
 
 Mabel went up to the girl. " What is it, 
 Mary ?" she asked gently. 
 
 " Mrs. Christopherson is not so well," replied 
 the maid. 
 
 " Tell me where she is." 
 
 " In one of the big rooms at the top of the 
 house." 
 
 " Who is with her ?" 
 
 " Mr. Cavour and Mrs. Taylor. Dr. Deas has 
 just left." 
 
 " I'll go up," said Clara, intervening, speaking 
 to her sister-in-law. " I shan't do any harm, at 
 any rate. It's no good you going till we find 
 out exactly what's the matter. Which room is 
 it ?" she said to the maid. 
 
 " The back room on the top floor," answered 
 the girl readily, obviously very glad to be relieved 
 of the mission. 
 
 Clara, who was already at the door, went 
 speedily off, and the maid, following her, re- 
 treated to the distant kitchen. In a few seconds 
 Mabel heard a door, somewhere at the far back, 
 closed. Her heart seemed to have stopped 
 
 205
 
 The Spinster 
 
 beating, her limbs felt cold and numbed. Though 
 she knew now, beyond doubt, beyond hope, that 
 the worst had happened, she was still in suspense. 
 It seemed to her that she remained in that room 
 for hours, listening, and, except that she heard the 
 chauffeur occasionally moving about on the 
 asphalt drive outside, there was no sound. The 
 man's footsteps, now short and shuffling, as if 
 he were doing something to the machine, now 
 brisk, as if he were walking round it, beat loudly 
 and mechanically, but almost unimpressively, 
 upon the wall of her brain, absorbed by suffering. 
 
 She seemed in time to lose the capacity of con- 
 scious hearing, for she was startled at last by the 
 opening of the door. Clara and Hugh came in. 
 
 The latter was frowning, and, for him, slightly 
 pale. His expression showed that he was 
 frightened as well as angry. 
 
 He did not beat about the bush. " You've 
 driven her mad," he said. 
 
 What could Mabel say ? Of what use now to 
 remind him that she had warned him, to tell him 
 that this was what she had feared, if he persisted 
 in his determination to bring the truth to her 
 mother's knowledge ? She simply stood and 
 looked at him, stunned before an immeasurable 
 calamity. 
 
 "I thought it was as well for you to come," she 
 heard him saying. " You used to be able to 
 206
 
 The Spinster 
 
 calm her better than anyone, and there was just 
 a chance that to see you looking like a normal 
 woman might switch her back again. Deas 
 thought so too. Of course, Deas had to be told. 
 Anyway, she tells him herself with every word she 
 utters. It's awful to hear her : it turns me queer. 
 I don't know where she learnt half the words ; 
 and she mixes it up w r ith things out of the Bible. 
 I suppose you are feeling satisfied with yourself 
 now ?" he concluded. 
 
 " It's rather rotten to rub it in like that, 
 Hugh," Clara put in. " It can't do any good." 
 
 " Well, look what she has done ! How can you 
 help feeling mad ?" 
 
 ' Yes, but you needn't have blabbed it out in 
 the way you did." 
 
 Hugh flared up. " How the devil was I to 
 know she was going to take it like that ?" 
 
 " You needn't have given her the chance. It's 
 always best to be on the safe side. I wish I'd 
 come down instead of you. Nobody seems to 
 know how to manage anything that needs to be 
 managed. It will be all over the place now. 
 You wouldn't be able to pay Mrs. Taylor to 
 keep her tongue still." 
 
 " It's all very well talking now," sneered Hugh. 
 " You didn't show any vast anxiety to come 
 when you were in London." 
 
 " I trusted you not to be quite a fool," retorted 
 207
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Clara, who had warmed, too, at the prospect of 
 the affair becoming public property in Blanford. 
 " In all my life I never knew anything worse 
 muddled by everybody. If it gets out, / won't 
 live here ! I tell you frankly." 
 
 " It's my fault only," said Mabel, speaking at 
 last. " I don't want to shirk the blame. May 
 I go to mother now ?" 
 
 " Come on," said Hugh roughly. " Take off 
 your hat and things, and try to look as ordinary 
 and amiable as you can. . . . You had better 
 go home," he said to his wife. 
 
 They went up the stairs up and up, to the 
 top of the high, flat-roofed old house Mabel 
 following her brother. When they reached the 
 last landing, Hugh stopped and listened at one 
 of the two doors which faced upon it. There 
 were stairs still ascending, but these led only to 
 the open roof. 
 
 " Be prepared for a scene," he said, " and keep 
 your head." Then he opened the door. 
 
 They entered a large, barely furnished room. 
 Two beds stood in opposite corners ; in the 
 middle was a small square table, with the remains 
 of lunch upon it. Mrs. Christopherson and the 
 housekeeper were the only occupants. The 
 former was seated in a wicker chair at the window, 
 knitting. 
 
 It seemed to Mabel that she looked very much 
 208
 
 The Spinster 
 
 as she had seen her on the day when she returned 
 from the hospital. Then, as now, she was 
 sitting quietly knitting, and apparently absorbed. 
 It was difficult to believe at first that the tender 
 tendril upon which her reason had then hung 
 had indeed snapped. 
 
 " Here's Mabel come back, mother," said Hugh. 
 ' You'll believe now, won't you, what nonsense 
 are all the things you've been thinking ? You 
 see, she's just the same as ever." 
 
 Mabel passed him and went towards her 
 mother. " I think I've been too long away from 
 you, mother," she said. " You will almost have 
 forgotten who I am." 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson slowly lifted her head. 
 For a few seconds there was no recognition in her 
 face. Then, with terrible suddenness, her eyes 
 dilated, flashed, flamed, as they looked at her 
 daughter ; and, like a bomb cast by a child, she 
 flung at her a phrase from Revelation which 
 cannot be written. 
 
 Instinctively Mabel drew slightly back, stricken 
 with anguish, and a little afraid. No possible 
 doubt any more that she was looking at a mad- 
 woman ! 
 
 Mrs. Christopherson rose from her seat with 
 ominous slowness. It gave the impression that 
 she was gathering her forces together. When 
 she got to her feet, her frail frame quivering 
 
 209 o
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and "expanding, her white hair dishevelled, her 
 eyes scooting vivid fires, she appeared what 
 she fancied herself to be an avenging angel. 
 The three watchers stood in their places, mo- 
 tionless, held by a sense of awe, waiting, 
 with drawn breath, for the development of her 
 purpose. 
 
 " ' Therefore in one day' " cried the mad- 
 woman, holding up a shaking, clenched hand 
 and even in her thin, weak voice, rising to a 
 shriek, she gave the words dignity " ' shall her 
 plagues come, death and mourning and famine, 
 and she shall be utterly burned with fire.' ' 
 
 As the last words were uttered, she made a 
 dipping dart for the lunch-table, seized a thin 
 pointed game-carver that lay upon it, and, with 
 a maniacal cry, rushed upon her daughter. 
 There was not the least doubt that she would 
 have plunged the knife into Mabel if Hugh had 
 not been there to intervene. 
 
 He held his mother. " Get away, Mabel, 
 damn you ! Take the knife, Mrs. Taylor ; she 
 can't move her hand now." 
 
 Mabel cast an agonised glance at the frenzied 
 woman, struggling and shrieking in her brother's 
 arms. 
 
 She dropped on her knees and caught her 
 skirts. " Mother, mother, do let me tell you. It 
 was not what you think." 
 
 210
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " It's no good curse you go /" cried Hugh, 
 panting. 
 
 Mabel obeyed. She was doing harm by re- 
 maining. She obeyed, with the devastating 
 knowledge in her heart that her mother must 
 come to her grave thinking these thoughts of 
 her. 
 
 She did not descend to the house, but went 
 up the short flight of stairs to the roof. There 
 she crouched, her chin upon the parapet, 
 looking out over the red roofs and chimneys of 
 the town. 
 
 She stayed there for hours she did not know 
 how many, but it was dark when she descended 
 into the house, cramped and shivering. On her 
 way down she paused for a few moments on the 
 top landing and listened. The door of her 
 mother's room was closed. She thought there 
 were people inside, but she could hear no dis- 
 tinguishable sound. 
 
 She went to her own room, and found that her 
 trunk had been placed there. In the vain hope 
 of distracting her thoughts, she began mechanic- 
 ally to unpack her things. Presently there came 
 a tap at the door, and, in answer to her call, a 
 maid opened the door and asked if dinner was 
 to be kept. It was half-past eight, she said. 
 
 Mabel had a tray brought up to her room, but 
 211
 
 The Spinster 
 
 she could not eat. All that evening no further 
 news of her mother reached her. She could not 
 ask the servants, and if Hugh were still in the 
 house it was inconceivable that he could have 
 left he did not come near her. Once in the 
 night she heard a scream and some movement on 
 the landings and stairs. She felt mean, she felt 
 a despicable coward, she felt like one who is at 
 once the incendiary and a trained fireman, and 
 who skulks out of harm's way when a house is 
 burning but she locked her door. 
 
 Even the next day no definite information came 
 to her. It was only by keeping a watch from 
 her window, and through the sounds and move- 
 ments in the house, that she learnt what was 
 passing. First, Dr. Deas came, very early. She 
 heard him panting up the stairs. He went away, 
 and returned later with a second medical man. 
 These two spent some time in the house ; she 
 could hear their voices, in the room below her, 
 talking to Hugh. Later still, after it had become 
 dark, Dr. Deas paid a third visit ; and this time 
 he did not go away. Hours seemed to pass. 
 Mabel made no attempt to sleep or even to un- 
 dress. Again and again she looked at her watch 
 by the light of a candle, and at each succeeding 
 examination she was struck with fresh incredulity 
 by the short time which had actually elapsed. 
 She did not know definitely what she was ex- 
 212
 
 The Spinster 
 
 peeling, but she was sure that the events of that 
 night were not yet complete. Dr. Deas and 
 Hugh were upstairs with her mother, and they 
 were waiting for something. 
 
 It was after midnight when she heard a motor- 
 car draw in at the gate and stop at the door, the 
 engine still working. She dragged herself to the 
 window and looked out. She could see beneath 
 her the lights and the outline of a heavy closed 
 vehicle. At the moment when she peered down, 
 two men got out from it and came into the house. 
 There was no longer any doubt of what she had 
 been expecting. She knew that a motor ambu- 
 lance was standing at the door. 
 
 She could look no longer. She came back into 
 the room, crouched in a chair, and listened. She 
 heard the men go upstairs. A long interval 
 or what seemed to be a long interval of silence 
 followed. Then there was further movement 
 upstairs and on the stairs subdued voices and 
 shuffling feet coming down. As they passed 
 the door, it seemed to her distraught senses that 
 they were carrying a coffin. She expected to 
 hear cries, but there were none only the heavy 
 feet. Then her professional knowledge which 
 all these later days had been obscured, lost in 
 the chaos of pain emerged and provided an 
 explanation. She knew what would be done : 
 her mother had been given a drug, a narcotic. 
 
 213
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Perhaps she would shriek later, but she would 
 not shriek now. 
 
 Step by step the feet shuffled down, and then 
 the voices came to her through the open window, 
 mingled with the fretting hum of the engine. 
 Suddenly it grated the chauffeur had pulled a 
 lever and as quickly softened. A short sentence 
 spoken by Dr. Deas reached her. Again the 
 engine grated, again softened, gathered sharply to 
 a steady hum ; and then she heard the ambulance 
 roll heavily out of the gate. Her mother had 
 left the Dower House, where the whole of her 
 adult life had been spent, and it was not possible 
 that anyone could think that she would return. 
 
 Mabel's head sank lower and lower, almost to 
 her lap. She clasped her hands upon her hair 
 and strained them till they were bloodless. 
 
 214
 
 Chapter XIV 
 
 IT was necessary for Mabel to remain a few days 
 longer in Blanford. The Dower House was to 
 be closed, and there was no one else qualified to 
 superintend and settle the necessary domestic 
 arrangements to that end. She carried these 
 through, as it appeared to her, automatically, 
 by the force of the original momentum which had 
 been imported to her brain. She was capable 
 of no new effort. Even her voice, when she 
 issued her orders, seemed to be a strange voice 
 to which her organs gave mechanical effect. Her 
 whole consciousness was absorbed by the desire 
 to reach the time when she could fare forth to 
 face somehow, somewhere the obscure and 
 precarious future. 
 
 During these days she spoke to no one, except 
 the servants, the tradesmen at the door, and a 
 house agent who came to take an inventory of 
 the furniture. Hugh had returned temporarily 
 to his home at Caxton, after informing her curtly 
 of what she was required to do. For the first 
 two days she did not leave the house, but on the 
 
 215
 
 The Spinster 
 
 third she was obliged to go into the town, to 
 make some purchases and to give some instruc- 
 tions to the agent. She hoped she would meet 
 no one she knew, because she did not feel equal 
 to talking. She was free of any suspicion that 
 the full facts concerning her misfortune would as 
 yet have penetrated beyond the family. She had 
 forgotten, as people are apt to forget, that house- 
 holds have their servants ; that the head of the 
 staff, whom the mistress sees in the morning, is 
 glad to have a piece of pungent information for 
 her ear ; and that the mistress, under the guise 
 of reprimand, can probe for particulars. 
 
 "I'm only saying what I'm told," more than 
 one cook in Blanford, on the day after Mrs. 
 Christopherson's removal, replied, with an 
 aggrieved air, to her mistress's virtuous rebukes. 
 " I had it from the milkman, and he had it from 
 Mrs. Taylor herself." 
 
 Mrs. Taylor, in fact, had been the medium. 
 She had no grudge against Mabel, no desire to 
 do her harm. Hugh, after his wife's warning, had 
 given her imperative directions to keep her know- 
 ledge to herself ; she knew the responsibility 
 which rested upon her, but she had not been able 
 to resist the temptation to electrify the kitchen. 
 When a woman discloses a secret, it is not, in the 
 great majority of cases, because she wishes to be 
 mischievous, but because she wishes to be sensa- 
 216
 
 The Spinster 
 
 tional. Mrs. Taylor had hedged her story about 
 with grave and futile cautions to discretion : the 
 town had it like wildfire, and with every detail 
 of the last scenes to stamp its truth. Some, in 
 their zeal to think no evil except with cause, 
 had found means to interview Mrs. Taylor. 
 
 During her short excursion and afterwards 
 Mabel was destined to have this fact brought 
 quite unambiguously to her knowledge. She 
 had hardly turned from the gate of the Dower 
 House, when she perceived, to her quick distress, 
 coming towards her on the same side of the street, 
 under his soft clerical hat, and at his gentle, pick- 
 ing, springy gait, no less a person than the Canon. 
 She expected him to stop and offer her, with 
 half-closed eyes, some pla.cid words of sympathy 
 and condolence upon her mother's seizure. She 
 was mistaken. When they were on the point 
 of meeting, she turned her eyes expectantly 
 towards him, and found that he was not looking 
 at her. His face was impassive, completely 
 immobile ; not a muscle twitched, not an eyelid 
 moved, not a drop of additional blood flushed to 
 his cheek ; he passed her as if she had not been 
 there. In its way, it was magnificent, superb. 
 
 There comes a time when the capacity to feel 
 pain reaches its limit. If the Canon had cut her, 
 in this pointed and unmistakable way, before 
 she went to Le Touquet, Mabel would have been 
 
 217
 
 The Spinster 
 
 exquisitely distressed and disturbed ; but during 
 the last few weeks, and particularly during the 
 last few days, she had suffered so much and so 
 poignantly, that her scored and numbed senses 
 could receive, for the present, no further impres- 
 sion of pain. She had lost the man she loved, 
 she had to face in the near future the most exacting 
 ordeal that an unmarried woman can undergo, 
 and she had to bear for all time the knowledge 
 that she had deprived her mother of her reason. 
 Under that burden of trouble, the Canon's action 
 seemed so trivial, so oddly disproportionate, that 
 a blessed sense of humour came to her relief. 
 Involuntarily she turned and watched his re- 
 treating figure, with a half comic sense of amaze- 
 ment and admiration. 
 
 He took the opportunity of the following Sun- 
 day to preach a sermon, from the story of Poti- 
 phar's wife, upon the lusts of the flesh. The con- 
 gregation agreed that it was an impressive 
 sermon and that there was no doubt of whom 
 he had in his mind. It did not appear to occur 
 to anyone that he might more appropriately 
 have taken for his text, John viii. 7. The infinite 
 pity and love and beauty of the story of the 
 Magdalen is ground still untilled by ministers of 
 the Church. 
 
 The Canon was not the only member of her 
 circle in Blanford whom Mabel met that morning. 
 218
 
 The Spinster 
 
 As she was leaving the agent's office she saw her 
 old suitor, the mild attorney, coming lightly along 
 the pavement. His step moderated presently. 
 He was intently occupied by something on the 
 opposite side of the street. She presumed he was 
 looking for beetles. Before he reached her he 
 had to cross the road, so she presumed he had 
 seen one. The deep flush which suffused his 
 cheek she attributed to eagerness to secure it. 
 
 Finally, close to the gate of the Dower House 
 she ran into Dr. Deas. He raised his hat shortly 
 and passed on without speaking. His ethical 
 views were not profound. He followed the 
 beaten track and referred to himself roughly as 
 " a broad-minded man." But, as became a 
 medical practitioner, he liked things (as he put 
 it) to be " healthy " ; he did not like anything 
 " nasty." 
 
 These incidents did not mark the beginning and 
 end of Mabel's encounters with her neighbours in 
 Blanford. The next day she was surprised to 
 receive a visit from the little Socialist. When 
 she was informed of it, and went into the small 
 sitting-room and found him standing there, she 
 thought he must have come in connection with 
 her mother's monetary affairs, and he did, in 
 fact, say a few preliminary words on that subject, 
 to give colour to his visit. It had occurred to 
 him, he said, that it might be of assistance to her 
 
 219
 
 The Spinster 
 
 to know the authority he would require to cash 
 cheques on Mrs. Christopherson's account. Mabel 
 thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and said that 
 all those matters were in her brother's hands. 
 He passed on at once, expressed his concern at 
 the sudden complete breakdown of her mother's 
 health, and so led up, without anything in the 
 nature of a blush, to the subject upon which he 
 had come to talk. 
 
 For Mr. Quirk was not a man who made 
 remarks : he talked. Speech considered speech, 
 embodying his ideas and beliefs was a satisfying 
 purpose to which, in his family circle, in his social 
 circle, and in the world at large, no opportunity 
 was too trivial to devote. Having settled himself 
 in a large easy-chair, he gave utterance to his 
 sentiments in a bass voice curiously at variance 
 with his small stature. He hoped she would 
 allow him to congratulate her upon her stand 
 for principle. 
 
 Poor Mabel, who was quite unconscious of 
 having made any stand for principle, did not 
 know how to answer him. This was worse, it 
 seemed to her, than the Canon's frigid cut, the 
 mild attorney's blushing avoidance, or the doctor's 
 curtness. 
 
 But to Mr. Quirk an answer was not indispen- 
 sable. He put down her hesitation to feminine 
 diffidence, and pushed on. 
 220
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Every advance," he asseverated, " in every 
 line of progress, is made through martyrdom." 
 
 Mabel could not follow, or attempt to follow, 
 what he said. Through the dull pain that was 
 closing round her like a fog, she heard occasional 
 phrases, like the theme coming out through the 
 bass of a nocturne : " Liberty of natural selec- 
 tion " ; " Payment of motherhood " ; " Healthy 
 children " ; " State sanatoria " ; " Sound hygienic 
 conditions " ; " Sterilization of the unfit." 
 
 Suddenly it occurred to her what a world he 
 was painting. What a world of sawdust and 
 Blue Books and human automata ! 
 
 " Oh, but that would be terrible, Mr. Quirk," 
 she interjected, almost involuntarily. 
 
 For a moment the little Socialist was slightly 
 abashed. But he soon recovered. It appeared 
 he had some unexpected converting to do. He 
 settled even more deeply into his chair, joined his 
 hands in front of him, and again launched himself 
 upon speech. 
 
 Mabel did not venture to comment again. Her 
 only hope was to allow the flow of words to run it- 
 self out. After a time it became almost soothing. 
 She did not know what he was talking about, but 
 his voice went on and on. 
 
 " I find," he concluded, " that the majority of 
 people are incapable of arguing this matter except 
 from the point of view of the well-to-do. The 
 
 221
 
 The Spinster 
 
 well-to-do represent only a small fraction, an 
 infinitely small fraction, of the race. Yet the 
 world to-day is cramped and bound by laws, 
 conventions, institutions, and religions, which 
 exist solely in their interest. What is needed 
 is freedom under, of course, proper organised 
 direction freedom to expand and develop, free- 
 dom to live on the free land of earth, under the 
 free air of heaven, the natural life of love and 
 endeavour and service." 
 
 He had used this peroration before, but Mabel 
 did not know it. She thought she had better 
 agree at least, that it would be wisdom to offer 
 no overt dissent. He appeared to have completed 
 his observations for the present, but an ill-judged 
 remark might wind the clock again. So she 
 renewed her thanks for his kindness in the matter 
 of her mother's banking account, and Mr. Quirk, 
 accepting the hint, duly rose. He shook her hand 
 warmly, took his hat, and marched out of the 
 house and out of the gate, with an air of having 
 accomplished a duty and a pleasure in every line 
 of his erect little figure. 
 
 Mabel returned to the sitting-room. It was 
 getting dusk, but she did not light the lamp. 
 
 She was not even a martyr, she was not even 
 
 fighting for a principle. She did not believe the 
 
 world would be happier or better if it were to 
 
 dispense with the institution of marriage. She 
 
 222
 
 The Spinster 
 
 was merely one of those women who have to 
 suffer because they are women and because they 
 are unfortunate and foolish, or because, as Clara 
 would have it, they break the sacrosanct eleventh. 
 She was far from accepting Clara's philosophy, 
 but, shifting the standpoint to the other side, she 
 began to wonder if the world might not better 
 serve its welfare, as an aggregation of individuals, 
 if it were a little less keen-visioned, if it were a 
 little less disposed to pry ? Marriage was right, 
 but it could not answer every question. It could 
 not answer her own glaring and abiding note of 
 interrogation. Marriage had never been offered 
 her by a man she loved. 
 
 Her experience that day had given her courage, 
 because it had stirred her sense of injustice. 
 Whatever her fault, she had not deserved of her 
 native town the ill that it had bestowed. Under 
 the calamity that had fallen upon her, in the 
 midst of her loneliness and suffering, there had 
 not been one to offer her a word of sympathy, not 
 one who had failed to spurn her, except the 
 bank-manager, and he only because he was a 
 crank with dreams of an impracticable social 
 regime. With hot tears of resentment and an- 
 guish, she vowed she would not go under ; she 
 would return to London and fight it out somehow 
 with her persecutors. 
 
 While she was so sitting the door was pushed 
 223
 
 The Spinster 
 
 open and Hugh came in. She had been expecting 
 his visit. She attempted hastily to brush the tears 
 from her cheeks. 
 
 " Squeaking," he said. " Pity you didn't 
 squeak a little earlier." 
 
 " The house has been cleaned, Hugh," she said, 
 calmly, " and the furniture is under dust-sheets 
 except this, and this will be done to-night. I have 
 packed the silver, and it has gone to the bank. 
 The servants are leaving in the morning. All 
 mother's private papers and personal belongings 
 are locked in her desk in the dining-room. Here 
 is the key. I have arranged with the house-agent 
 to leave the key of the house with him." 
 
 " And what are you going to do ?" 
 
 " I'm going back to London." 
 
 " But where ? The hospital won't have any 
 more to do with you." 
 
 " What I may do doesn't concern you. I don't 
 ask your help." 
 
 " I don't know how you can go on living," he 
 burst out. " Seeing what you've done, I don't 
 know how you can go on living. I wouldn't have 
 the thought on my conscience that I'd driven 
 my mother into a madhouse for a flask of the 
 Elixir of Life." 
 
 " If your only object in coming is further 
 abuse," said Mabel firmly, " I shall not stay to 
 listen to it. This is at least as much my house 
 224
 
 The Spinster 
 
 as yours, and I am here now at your request, to 
 see to the carrying out of the preparations for 
 closing it. You have already insulted me as 
 much as it is possible for a man to insult a woman, 
 and I don't think I am called upon to submit to 
 any more." 
 
 " Why the dickens don't you have a light," 
 exclaimed Hugh, seizing a pretext for irritable 
 complaint, " instead of sitting here mewling in 
 the dark ?" 
 
 He took a box of matches from his pocket and 
 lighted a lamp. While his back was turned 
 Mabel surreptitiously removed the remaining 
 traces of her fit of fierce weeping. 
 
 " Now," said Hugh, dragging a chair to the 
 table and sitting down, " for two minutes we'll 
 talk business." 
 
 " Yes," said Mabel. 
 
 " Have you any idea what your position is ?" 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " While your mother lives you've got nothing. 
 I dare say she has left you something out of her 
 savings, which, fortunately for you, she can't 
 now revoke. But that can't be touched until her 
 death, and she may live another ten years. Do 
 you understand what I'm saying ? For the time 
 being, and perhaps for ten years, you've got 
 absolutely nothing." 
 
 " I know," said Mabel. 
 
 225 p
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " And yet you talk glibly about going to 
 London ?" 
 
 " I told you I had saved a little." 
 
 " You can be sure you'll need it." He drew a 
 cheque-book from his pocket and laid it on the 
 table. " You've no claim on me, but I suppose 
 you are expecting me to add to it, on top of what 
 your games at Le Touquet cost me. Now I'll 
 tell you what I'm going to do. On condition that 
 I never see or hear from you again, I'll make you 
 a present of a hundred pounds." 
 
 " I'll give you the promise without the bribe," 
 said Mabel. 
 
 " A very pretty sentiment a touching sign of 
 sisterly regard ! What would you say if I took 
 you at your word ?" He began to write the date 
 on a form, then threw down the pen and picked 
 up another, to discard it in turn. " Get me a 
 pen from another room ; these are all bad." 
 
 " It's no use your writing it, Hugh. I shall not 
 take it." 
 
 He raised his head and looked at her. ' You 
 mean that ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You are almost penniless ; I'm offering you a 
 hundred pounds, and you say you won't take it ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Think it over quietly ; I shan't give you 
 another chance." 
 
 226
 
 The Spinster 
 
 ' I shan't ask for another chance." 
 
 " Now I tell you solemnly," he said, still looking 
 at her, " that you'll live to regret this piece of 
 fine pride." 
 
 " I shall never regret refusing to take your 
 money, offered in the spirit in which you offer it, 
 if I starve." 
 
 ' That's very high-sounding. Wait till you 
 do starve, and then you'll sing another tune. 
 What the dickens spirit do you expect me to 
 offer it in ?" he demanded sharply. " Do you 
 expect me to come and say that I look upon it 
 as a high privilege to have a woman of your 
 principles for a sister, and that, as a slight mark 
 of my appreciation of your noble character and 
 conduct, I hope you will do me the honour to 
 accept an unworthy cheque ?" 
 
 Mabel made no reply. 
 
 He held his hand over the cheque-book, in 
 the way of an auctioneer knocking down a lot. 
 " One more chance ?" 
 
 " I've nothing more to say." 
 
 " Very well," he rapped out, nettled. He closed 
 the book and put it back in his pocket. " Shift 
 for yourself. I've done with you. There's a life 
 waiting for you in London, the only life you are 
 fit for. You had better go to it." 
 
 Without another word, with that final, brutal 
 shot ringing in her ears, he got up and left her. 
 
 227
 
 Chapter XV 
 
 IT was among the ironies of fortune, that the suc- 
 cessive calamities and the agitation of body and 
 spirit, which her personal trouble had brought 
 upon Mabel, reacted to cause its removal. Too 
 late that was one irony to save her position, 
 to save her mother ! And in a subjective, purely 
 individual and feminine sense, she was disap- 
 pointed that was another irony. But she 
 realised with deep relief, unutterable thankful- 
 ness, that, whatever her own lot might be, she 
 would not be called upon to give life to one who 
 would carry from birth a crushing and irremov- 
 able handicap. It simplified, also, the problem 
 of her immediate future. 
 
 On her arrival in London she went to a small, 
 new, red-brick. hotel just off the Euston Road. 
 The next day she moved from there to lodgings 
 in the same neighbourhood. She had one in- 
 valuable asset in starting her new life that was 
 her hospital training. She had the fullest quali- 
 fication for the trying, indifferently paid, often 
 anxious and often exhausting, but varied and not 
 uninteresting, work of private nursing. She 
 328
 
 The Spinster 
 
 spent her first day in lodgings in writing to all 
 the doctors she knew to ask for their co-operation 
 in her search for this employment. It was quickly 
 and fruitfully forthcoming. Indeed, at first her 
 trouble was always that applications for her 
 services overlapped, so that she was obliged to 
 refuse doctors she would have liked to work with 
 and patients she would have liked to accept. 
 
 While she was living in these North London 
 lodgings, Andie came to see her. He came to see 
 her several times, but his first visit had a melan- 
 choly interest to distinguish it. When he walked 
 into the dull little room, and she saw his dejected 
 appearance beneath a really heroic attempt to 
 look cheerful, she knew, without asking him, what 
 had happened. He had failed in his examination. 
 
 " Don't you think you may have made a mis- 
 take, Andie ?" she asked. " Did you look at the 
 right list ? You remember the shock we got at 
 the Intermediate ?" 
 
 " Yes, I remembered that," he answered. 
 " But it's the real thing this time. I knew my 
 Equity paper was jolly bad." 
 
 " Poor boy ! I can't understand it," said Mabel. 
 "I'm sure the examiners must have got the 
 papers mixed somehow. You had worked so 
 hard, and you seemed to know it all so well." 
 
 " Well, you see, it was that morning that I 
 heard about mother," he said, " and it was rather 
 
 229
 
 The Spinster 
 
 a shock. I couldn't think about anything else. 
 So I didn't really have a fair innings." 
 
 " Oh, of course it was that day," Mabel cried 
 out. " I had forgotten. So even this was my 
 doing. I've made you miss the Final, after all 
 we had talked and thought about it." She 
 dropped her arms and her head on the square 
 table, covered with a dingy cloth, which occupied 
 most of the space of the little room. " Hugh 
 says he doesn't know how I can go on living." 
 
 " Don't worry, Mabs," said Andie. " Hugh 
 ought not to have told her. I don't know what 
 he was thinking of ; it was so unnecessary. And 
 as for me, I can go in again." 
 
 " Yes, but that won't be the same." Her voice 
 was muffled. " You'll never feel it's the same." 
 
 " Yes, I shall. Why not ?" 
 
 She looked up. " Andie, if it hadn't been for 
 you all this time I think I should have gone 
 mad. I don't believe you could say a nasty 
 word about anybody, however hard you tried, 
 and however much you had been injured." 
 
 " Don't talk silly rot !" said Andie, flushing 
 uncomfortably. He looked round the room. 
 " Are you going to put up here altogether now, 
 or only for a time ?" 
 
 " That depends upon whether I find I can rely 
 upon getting patients. How soon can you go in 
 again ?" 
 
 230
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " In three months." 
 
 " And you'll have to stay up and coach ?" 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so." 
 
 " Oh, well, then, I feel nearly glad you failed, 
 after all, because, if you had got through, you 
 would have gone away, and I shouldn't have had 
 you." She got up. " Now I'm going to make tea." 
 
 She spread a white cloth on the table, and took 
 some crockery and various eatables from a cup- 
 board. ' ' You be cutting the bread and butter, ' ' she 
 said, " while I get some water and boil the kettle." 
 
 She left the room for a few minutes, and during 
 her absence Andie made praiseworthy, but not 
 conspicuously satisfactory, efforts to cut thin 
 slices of bread from a new loaf. 
 
 When Mabel returned and saw the crumbly 
 confusion on the table she stood with the kettle 
 in her hand and laughed. It was the first time 
 she had laughed for weeks. 
 
 " Oh, you funny boy !" she exclaimed. " Have 
 you lived to be twenty-three without learning 
 that you must butter the bread before you cut 
 it ? Who could possibly butter those slices with- 
 out any middles ?" 
 
 She put the kettle on the fire, and then took 
 the knife out of his hand. 
 
 " Where shall I go," she said, " if I find I can 
 afford to leave here ? I might take a little flat, 
 but it would have to be very inexpensive." 
 
 231
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " An empty one ?" 
 
 " I didn't know people let their flats occupied." 
 
 " Oh, don't begin rotting ! You know what I 
 mean unfurnished." 
 
 " Yes. I've still got the furniture I had in my 
 room at Barts I never sold it and I've enough 
 money to buy a little more. I would cook you 
 such nice little dinners that you would always be 
 coming. I do wish you didn't have to leave 
 London in three months, Andie, then things 
 wouldn't feel so awful as they do. And yet it 
 seems wrong that I should be feeling a little bit 
 cheerful this afternooon." She went to the cup- 
 board and took out a packet of tea. " One for 
 each person," she said, dipping into it with a 
 spoon, " and one for the pot." 
 
 " Of course it's not China," said Andie. 
 
 " No, I don't like China." 
 
 " Women never do, and men always do. 
 Haven't you ever noticed that ?" 
 
 " Then you shall have a little pot and a little 
 packet to yourself the next time you come," said 
 Mabel. " Andie, come to see me often, won't 
 you, at first ? It would be terrible to think what 
 the world would be like at present if you were 
 not in it." 
 
 Andie gave a promise and kept it. He had to 
 stick very closely to work now, for he had no 
 intention to suffer a second disaster in the ex- 
 
 232
 
 The Spinster 
 
 amination rooms in Chancery Lane ; but he found 
 opportunities every two or three days to visit his 
 sister. He thought she had done wrong, but that 
 did not affect his love for her, nor did he regard 
 it as any part of his business to sit in judgment 
 upon her. In spite of that, had he thought about 
 it, he would probably have looked upon the fact 
 that she had suffered social ostracism as evidence 
 against her. He did not perceive the fallacy that 
 you cannot adduce the infliction of punishment 
 as proof of an offence. He did not perceive that, 
 in order to point to social ostracism as a matter 
 telling against Mabel, it was necessary to postu- 
 late the fault and beg the question. He did not 
 perceive that a man who wants to make a dog 
 stand on its hind-legs is not entitled to say : " It 
 is obvious that he has no right to stand on all 
 fours, because he gets thrashed for doing it." 
 
 As soon as Mabel found that she would have 
 no difficulty in obtaining patients she left her 
 dingy lodgings and took a small flat at the top 
 of a block in Clapham. She furnished it inex- 
 pensively, and made it her headquarters. Usually 
 she only occupied it for a few days at a time, 
 during the intervals when she was not nursing. 
 It could not be said that she was happy, but her 
 continuous work helped her to avoid thinking. 
 She was always so tired at night that she was 
 obliged to sleep. She felt that she was burnt 
 
 233
 
 The Spinster 
 
 through and had become a cinder ; that she 
 retained the capacity for observation and objec- 
 tive activity without the capacity for sensation 
 or subjective impression. 
 
 The human atmosphere surrounding her in 
 London was in the strongest contrast with that 
 in Blanford. There the people had paid her 
 too much attention ; here, she began even to feel, 
 they paid her too little. She had the sense that 
 she was lost in the crowd. The ceaseless unrest 
 of the myriads of units, all oblivious of her, all 
 busily intent on their own concerns, appealed to 
 her more acutely than it had ever done before. 
 She stood amazed sometimes before the thought 
 of the countless, humming wheels of personal 
 interest, some large, some small, all threaded to 
 other wheels, which are persistently and eternally 
 turning in the world. Except to her patients and 
 their friends succeeding strangers and except 
 on Andie's occasional visits, she never spoke to 
 anyone. She did not seek her old associates and 
 friends at the hospital, for that would have in- 
 volved questions not prying questions, but 
 natural, kindly inquiries about her family and 
 her general well-being, which she could not have 
 answered. So she felt that she was in the world, 
 but not of it, that she was merely watching, and 
 that her life could never be otherwise. 
 
 The three months passed, and then, one after- 
 234
 
 The Spinster 
 
 noon, Andie came with a rush up her stairs to 
 tell her of his success. In his excitement and 
 jubilation he was for once demonstrative ; he 
 went right into the arms she held out and spon- 
 taneously kissed her. That night, for the first 
 time since her return to London, they dined at a 
 restaurant together and went to a theatre. Andie 
 was quite happy, and Mabel more nearly so than 
 she had supposed she now had it in her to be. 
 
 The following day, rather late in the evening, 
 he came to her flat again. For a time he talked 
 upon subjects of no particular moment, and Mabel 
 thought that this second visit, on the heels of his 
 previous one, was due to the fact that he would 
 so soon be leaving London. Then she perceived 
 that he had something on his mind, something 
 that he wanted to tell her. 
 
 " What have you been doing to-day ?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " I've just come from the McCormicks." 
 
 " Have you been there all day ?" 
 
 " Yes, all day lunch, tea, and dinner. They 
 made me stay." 
 
 He spoke with a certain embarrassment, and 
 yet with a certain bravado. She suddenly realised, 
 too, that he was in uncommonly high spirits. 
 
 " Andie, I believe you've done it ? I believe 
 you've asked Kathleen to marry you." 
 
 " Yes," he admitted ; " I'm awfully sorry, 
 235
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Mabs, but it couldn't be put off any longer ; it 
 had to come. Everybody was expecting it, I 
 could see, when they heard I was through. They 
 left us alone, and oh, you know. The old boy 
 is very decent I think he'll do something for us 
 but, of course, I shall have to fit up a house to 
 live in. Kathleen says she doesn't mind waiting." 
 
 " You were perfectly right," said Mabel ; " you 
 couldn't have done anything else. I don't blame 
 you. What makes you think I should ? I am 
 very glad for you ; nobody could possibly be 
 more glad. You feel happy about it, don't you ?" 
 
 " Oh, well, rather ! What I can't understand 
 is how she could think of taking me. It's an 
 awfully funny feeling, Mabs, that a girl like that 
 should want one." 
 
 Mabel smiled a little. " I suppose it must seem 
 like that to you," she said. " Had you any doubt 
 when you asked her ?" 
 
 " Doubt ! I felt hopeless. I felt an awful ass. 
 I can hardly believe it even now." 
 
 " Have you kissed her ?" 
 
 " Oh, don't be a Juggins !" 
 
 " Well, she is quite human, isn't she ?" 
 
 " Oh yes ; it's perfectly wonderful !" He 
 paused, and then asked with some anxiety : 
 " You like her, don't you, Mabs ?" 
 
 ' Yes, very much ; and marriage will improve 
 her. I think she is nearly good enough for you, 
 236
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and I don't think I should be able to say more 
 than that about any girl." 
 
 Andie drew a deep breath. " That's quite a 
 relief," he said. " I wasn't sure, and I felt a 
 little afraid, because naturally you'll have to see 
 
 a lot of her, and " He stopped. The same 
 
 thought had come into both their minds. 
 
 " Of course she knows nothing about about 
 me ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 " Heavens !" he said, with a queer look, facing 
 the thought ; " I don't know what she would say 
 if she did." 
 
 There was a short silence. 
 
 " Does she know I am in London ?" Mabel asked. 
 
 " No ; I haven't told her," he answered slowly. 
 Then he went on quickly : " But that's because 
 I've hardly seen her since you came back until 
 to-day. I've been working." 
 
 " You need not blush about it, Andie," his 
 sister said. " You were right not to tell her. 
 You must not tell her." 
 
 The sense which permeated her that she was 
 in the world, but not of it ; that she was merely 
 watching was impressed with new force, by this 
 sharp illustration, on her consciousness. 
 
 " I won't go and see her," she went on. " I'm 
 going to a patient in the country next Monday ; 
 I'll write from there." 
 
 Andie was looking pensive and a little worried. 
 237
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Oh, but " He hesitated, knitting his brows 
 
 in anxious perplexity. " It's all wrong some- 
 how. It seems as if you were being slighted and 
 shelved." 
 
 " What else can I expect ?" replied Mabs, with 
 a faint smile. " It certainly is not your fault. 
 I have no right to complain, and I don't complain. 
 The best service I can do you now is to keep out 
 of your way, and that is what I shall try to do." 
 
 No more was said at that time, and soon after- 
 wards Andie got up to leave. 
 
 " Oh, there's another thing," he. said at the 
 door. " Now the Dower House is closed, I shall 
 have to stay with Hugh at Caxton, while I'm 
 looking for an appointment." 
 
 " That will be much nicer for you," said Mabel. 
 " It will be more cheerful, and they'll ask Kath- 
 leen down to stay." 
 
 " Yes, but I would rather not have had to 
 sponge on him." 
 
 " Oh, rubbish ! He'll be thankful to have you. 
 You'll help to amuse Clara, and keep her from 
 complaining about the dulness." 
 
 After he had gone she sat and looked into the 
 fire. There seemed to be no end to the stream- 
 lets of consequence which flowed from that night 
 at Le Touquet. Would they ask Kathleen down 
 to stay, and, if they did, what might she hear in 
 Blanford ? 
 
 238
 
 Chapter XVI 
 
 DURING these months in which Mabel had been 
 through so much tribulation there had never been 
 a moment when the ache of her heart had abated 
 or had been numbed. The void which had 
 been left in her, on the morning when Horace 
 Register had taken his seat on the motor-bus at 
 the door of the hotel in Le Touquet, was a void 
 which time and suffering had done nothing to 
 close. Among all her troubles, the trouble of 
 that morning remained supreme in its bitterness 
 and anguish. Even the hours she had spent on 
 the roof of the Dower House had bitten less 
 poignantly and enduringly into her soul. She 
 had forced herself to put past days and past 
 hopes into recesses of her mind where they would 
 not interfere with the aims and necessities of the 
 present, but the strain of regret was constant, 
 unrelaxing and irremediable. 
 
 She went about London always half in dread 
 and half in hope that she would meet him. 
 Again and again she thought that she saw him, 
 that she caught a glimpse of his face or of his 
 
 239
 
 The Spinster 
 
 back, crossing a street, at a railway-station, dis- 
 appearing round a corner at the opposite end of 
 a department at the Stores. Sometimes she 
 thought that she heard his step coming up the 
 stairs leading to her own flat, that she heard his 
 voice breathlessly calling to her with the clang 
 of the gates as she descended a lift at a Tube 
 station, or when a train, gathering impetus, 
 carried her from a platform. She grew to dis- 
 trust her eyes and her ears. 
 
 She distrusted them one day, late in the after- 
 noon, some months after Andie had returned to 
 Blanford, when she was standing, waiting for a 
 'bus, on the south side of Piccadilly. Then her 
 heart stopped, she felt that she would suffocate, 
 a mist swathed her. The mist passed, and she 
 looked steadily. He was older in appearance, 
 more careworn ; his step was less light but it 
 was he. 
 
 He was coming towards her. She had seen him 
 before he saw her. When he recognised her, she 
 noticed that for a second he hesitated. Then he 
 came on at a much more sprightly step, and 
 smiling. 
 
 " At last !" he said. 
 
 " You can't pretend you have been looking for 
 me." Mabel was surprised at her own calmness. 
 " I can pretend anything." 
 Mabel was conscious that his old casual, im- 
 240
 
 The Spinster 
 
 pertinent manner was, in some degree, assumed. 
 The fact gave her confidence. She felt, for the 
 first time in her knowledge of him, that she had 
 him at a disadvantage, and that he admitted it. 
 Again and again of late she had tried to decide 
 what must be her attitude should this meeting 
 happen whether she should pass him with a 
 slight, cold bow ; whether give him a few words 
 of distant civility ; or whether she could afford 
 to remit further acute disfavour and to shed the 
 subdued and moderated light of her countenance 
 upon him and she had never reached a con- 
 clusion. Now that the moment had actually 
 befallen, the olive-branch had come of itself into 
 her hand : an irrevocable note of amity had 
 already been struck. It had been struck in- 
 stinctively, and she could not consistently or 
 with dignity go back upon it. Nor, she realised, 
 did she wish to do so : that tentative quality in 
 his manner, quite new in him, which suggested 
 a prisoner, conscious of his fault, waiting in sus- 
 pense for confirmation of his sentence or reprieve, 
 made her feel that it was not necessary. She 
 hesitated before she spoke again, not because 
 she was in doubt about her words, but because 
 her breath was catching in her throat. After a 
 few seconds she said : 
 
 " Have you been in England ever since all the 
 time since I saw you last ?" 
 
 241 Q
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Most of it." He was clearly relieved. " Oh 
 I've had a bad time," he went on, in a tone of 
 exaggerated self-pity. " It came to the narrowest 
 shave that you would never see me in this world 
 again." 
 
 A hurrying pedestrian brushed his shoulder 
 rather brusquely. He turned sharply and looked 
 after him with annoyance, and then smiled at 
 Mabel. It was, in fact, becoming apparent that 
 people in the crowded street considered them in 
 the way. 
 
 " Come in here." It was said with the calm 
 peremptoriness of his natural voice : his assurance 
 had returned. In the same moment she felt his 
 hand on her arm, and in the next he had steered 
 her into a tea-shop. 
 
 Mabel's utmost intention had been to speak a 
 few words of greeting, that he might know she 
 had no hoard of bitterness from the past, and 
 then to get into her 'bus. And now, almost with- 
 out there having been opportunity for her own 
 volition to come into play, she was seated opposite 
 him at a table, and he had ordered tea. 
 
 " I didn't mean to have tea with you," she 
 said. 
 
 " Of course you didn't : you didn't know you 
 were going to meet me." His eyes laughed with 
 the patronising, impertinent delight she knew so 
 well. 
 
 242
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " It was very foolish of me to let you bring me 
 in here." 
 
 " Was it ? I don't think so. But why ?" 
 
 " Because," she replied quite simply, " I have 
 my work to do and my life to live." 
 
 " Well, a shillingsworth of tea won't prevent 
 you doing that." 
 
 ' You know what I mean ; don't pretend to 
 be dull. Tell me what has been the matter 
 with you." 
 
 " Oh, I've had an awful time. I've been in 
 bed for two months with rheumatic fever. Just 
 think of it absolutely helpless ! I felt I wanted 
 to throw things at people, but I hadn't the 
 strength." 
 
 " What a terrible patient you must have been !" 
 said Mabel, smiling. 
 
 " Patient ! I wasn't a patient at all ! I was 
 an impatient. Have you ever had an im- 
 patient ?" 
 
 " I'm afraid I have." 
 
 " Can you make them do what you tell them ?" 
 
 " Yes, generally in time." 
 
 " You couldn't have made me." 
 
 " I think I could." 
 
 " I wish you had nursed me," he said, leaning 
 suddenly forward, with his arms crossed on the 
 table. 
 
 " How many lumps ?" she asked. 
 
 243
 
 The Spinster 
 
 He laughed and leaned back in his chair. 
 " Here endeth the first lesson ! No, I detest 
 sugar you know that. But the fever wasn't the 
 worst of it. The worst is that it has left my 
 heart so queer. Sometimes I don't know where 
 I am. Like the man who got a knock on the 
 head with a sledge-hammer, ' It makes me go all 
 unconscientious.' ' 
 
 Mabel looked at him gravely, hiding a smile. 
 " Is that possible ?" 
 
 He laughed again. " You're just the same," 
 he said. " I might have sworn you would have 
 said that. It was a piece of luck to run into you 
 to-day." 
 
 " I'm very sorry about your heart," she said, 
 again turning the subject. " I thought you 
 looked rather pulled down. You must be careful 
 not to run upstairs or to do any of the silly things 
 I can imagine you would be inclined to do." 
 
 " Stairs !" he exclaimed. " I can't look at 
 stairs." 
 
 She turned suddenly paler and looked at him 
 with sharp anxiety in her eyes. " Is it really as 
 bad as that ?" 
 
 " No, not quite ; but I have to take them pretty 
 slowly." 
 
 " You are not fit to take care of yourself," she 
 said, almost with annoyance. " Where did you 
 get this fever ? Were you in England ?" 
 244
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Of course I was. Where else would you have 
 a chance of playing golf in the rain ?" 
 
 " You played golf in the rain and got wet ?" 
 
 " I hadn't a dry rag on me when I finished." 
 
 " Did you change at once and have a hot 
 bath?" 
 
 " How could I ? I hadn't a change with 
 me." 
 
 " I suppose it was raining when you left 
 London ?" 
 
 " It looked rather like clearing when I started," 
 said Register, who found himself, somewhat to 
 his surprise, on a search for excuses. 
 
 " And for that absurd reason," Mabel summed 
 U P> " vou took no change, and got rheumatic 
 fever. . . . Do you ever read the Bible?" 
 
 " What on earth are you going to say ?" 
 
 " Did you ever read a sentence which says, 
 ' It is not good for man to be alone ' ?" 
 
 " You will find it in the first chapter of the 
 Book of Genesis." 
 
 " You will find it in the second." 
 
 " That's a very good sermon," he said, looking 
 at her with a frank smile ; " I don't think I ever 
 heard a better sermon. But you put the text at 
 the wrong end." 
 
 " Don't you think it's a good plan ? It would 
 keep people interested, to see if they could 
 guess it." 
 
 245
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " And there's another text," said Register 
 " it's not out of the Bible, but it's quite 
 apropos to the effect that it's no use closing the 
 stable-door when the horse has been stolen." 
 
 " There might be an answer to that," said 
 Mabel. 
 
 " And what might be the answer to that ?" 
 
 " There might be other horses in the stable 
 perhaps more valuable horses." 
 
 There was a pause in their talk quite a long 
 pause. Register ate a piece of toast. 
 
 " A man wouldn't be justified," he said, when 
 that operation had been satisfactorily completed, 
 " in marrying a woman to nurse him." 
 
 Though put in positive form, there was a sug- 
 gestion of the interrogative in the remark, and 
 he was looking towards her as if he expected a 
 reply. But Mabel was filling her cup, and did 
 not appear to have heard. Presently, however, 
 she showed that she had heard. 
 
 ' That would depend," she said, " upon 
 whether the woman understood that she would 
 be a nurse." 
 
 " Are you staying in London ?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 " I'm living here." 
 
 " What ! have you come back to Bart's ?" 
 
 " No, I'm doing private work." 
 
 " Do you mean going to people's houses ?" 
 246
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ' That must be rather a mixed joy, isn't it ?" 
 ' Yes, in a way ; but I don't suppose there is 
 any occupation which gives you such an insight 
 into actual lives. You never know people really 
 until you live in their houses." 
 
 " Lots of others do that secretaries and 
 governesses, for instance." 
 
 ' Yes, but a nurse is continually changing, 
 moving from one house to another. You come 
 across such a variety of types and such con- 
 trasts." 
 
 " But what I meant was, they are probably not 
 always particularly easy to get on with 1" 
 
 " Some people are very nice indeed, and some 
 are just the reverse." 
 
 " Some treat you like a servant ?" 
 
 Mabel smiled. " Well, almost. I've never 
 been asked to dine in the kitchen." 
 
 " But why did you leave Blanford ? Did you 
 get tired of it ?" 
 
 " I think it would be more right to say that 
 Blanford got tired of me." 
 
 " You made yourself unpopular ?" His eyes 
 were twinkling. 
 
 " Very !" 
 
 " So should I, in a place of that kind. I'm 
 glad you left it." 
 
 It was obvious that it did not occur to him that 
 247
 
 The Spinster 
 
 he could be in any way responsible for her un- 
 popularity. His questions, indeed, were only 
 asked in a polite, perfunctory way. He was not 
 interested in the answers. Now, as at all times, 
 he was only interested in her in the present, not 
 in the past. 
 
 He passed on lightly to the questions she had 
 been expecting, which he had had in his mind to 
 ask since he began to interrogate her. " But you 
 can't be always living in other people's houses. 
 For instance, now ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then where do you live in the intervals ?" 
 
 " I have taken a little flat at Clapham a very 
 small one." 
 
 He waited a moment, and then once more bent 
 towards her. 
 
 " May I come and see you sometimes ?" 
 
 All this time Mabel had been deliberating how 
 she should reply when he asked her this. Her 
 first instinctive feeling had been that she must 
 refuse refuse quietly, firmly and uncondition- 
 ally. That was the only possible attitude, it 
 seemed to her, consistent with her self-respect. 
 Then had come the talk about his health. He 
 had asked her if a man who was not physically 
 sound would be justified in marrying, and he had 
 asked her in such a way as to give the question 
 a personal significance. She knew that, what- 
 248
 
 The Spinster 
 
 ever care, whatever anxiety, it might bring her, 
 she would marry him if he wished it. If, now, 
 she placed a bar in the way of further meeting, 
 that hope, just blown again to a tiny flame, 
 would be extinguished once more, and finally. 
 There was no doubt that, if she could look forward 
 to seeing him even rarely, it would add an 
 immense stimulus and interest to her life. For, 
 since Andie's return to Blanford, she had become 
 utterly lonely : she had discovered what it was 
 to live day after day and month after month, and 
 to see the prospect of living year after year, in a 
 world of strangers. Because her personal affairs 
 could not be spoken of, and because you cannot 
 have friendship without reciprocal confidence, she 
 had resisted again and again an open temptation 
 to make friends of her patients. The thought 
 came to her that that very absence of friends, 
 that withdrawal of the world from her, had given 
 her the right to please herself. 
 
 She was so long in replying that Register spoke 
 again. " It could not be often," he said, still 
 bending over the table towards her, and with a 
 note of genuine concern and entreaty in his voice. 
 " You would be away, and I should be away. 
 It could only be now and then." 
 
 At last Mabel spoke. " If I allow you to come," 
 she said, looking down at her plate, " it must be 
 in the way in which you used to come and^see me 
 
 249
 
 The Spinster 
 
 at Bart's. Everything afterwards must be for- 
 gotten, must be as if it had not been." 
 
 " Why, of course." His face relaxed, and he 
 looked across at her in his gentle, smiling, almost 
 paternal way. " That was weird and foolish 
 altogether outside the picture a chromatic 
 aberration. I'm not sure," he added, " that we 
 are not suffering from a mutual hallucination." 
 
 Mabel wondered what he would say if he knew 
 what grievous reason she had for knowing that 
 it was no hallucination. She was certain that 
 he would express rabid indignation, with hot 
 threats of great reprisals, but she had an intuition 
 that it would not be deeply felt. He would pass 
 on, quite easily, after a time, to other subjects. 
 
 He handed her a memorandum-book and a 
 pencil. 
 
 " Anywhere on that page," he said in his sham- 
 peremptory tone. " Don't turn over the leaf." 
 
 Mabel took the book, and, with a hand which 
 trembled a little, she wrote her address in it. 
 
 250
 
 Chapter XVII 
 
 ' THAT was a very narrow shave," said Register, 
 handing Mabel a plate. He was standing in her 
 scullery, his coat off, his shirt-sleeves rolled 
 up, washing the tea-things. " I can tell you, 
 they're just like eels in this water. If I get 
 through without breaking anything, I shall ex- 
 pect a rise in wages. Now give me something 
 else." 
 
 Mabel put down the plate, which she had begun 
 to dry, walked to the other side of him, and handed 
 him a muffin-dish. 
 
 " Put it in the water," he directed. " I can't 
 hold it with my hands in this state. They feel 
 like a last year's apple. And just pull my sleeves 
 up a bit further." 
 
 Mabel did as she was told, and he proceeded, 
 very gingerly, to wash the semiglobular dish, 
 raising it as rarely and slightly as possible from 
 the bottom of the sink. His operations on each 
 separate article took him two or three minutes. 
 Mabel, if left to herself, could have completed 
 the whole process in less than half the time 
 
 251
 
 The Spinster 
 
 required by their joint efforts, but he conceived 
 himself to be rendering invaluable service. 
 
 " I don't think our old friend the kitchen-maid 
 has justice done to her," he said, when he had 
 contrived to lift the muffin-dish from its greasy 
 bath, and pass it into Mabel's hands. " What 
 astonishes me is that she manages to avoid 
 breaking everything. Let's have some fresh 
 water, and I'll dry my hands for a minute." 
 
 " Perhaps I had better finish," said Mabel. 
 " It won't take me long." 
 
 " You finish ! Good gracious, what am I here 
 for ? I can promise you those tea-things have 
 never been so well washed since they were made 
 as they will be when I've had a cigarette." 
 
 He went into the kitchen, and sat down on one 
 of the two plain deal chairs which it contained. 
 Mabel followed him and took the other. 
 
 " A cigarette," he said, " is very pleasant, with 
 the consciousness of half one's work well done." 
 
 Four or five months had passed since their 
 meeting in Piccadilly, and this was the fourth 
 or fifth time that he had been to see her in that 
 period. 
 
 " That does seem so like you, Horace," she 
 said, " to do half your work well. It's what 
 happens all through your life. You take up 
 things with feverish energy and enthusiasm, and 
 by the time you're half way through you lose 
 252
 
 The Spinster 
 
 interest in them. You never go steadily on to 
 an end, never bring anything to fruitage." 
 
 " How do you know I don't ?" he asked, a little 
 piqued. 
 
 " How do I know you are frowning now ?" 
 
 : ' Tell me what makes you think I don't carry 
 things through." 
 
 " I won't unless you promise not to do any- 
 thing so silly as to be or to look " she empha- 
 sised, resting her elbows on the kitchen-table 
 " a little bit annoyed." 
 
 His curiosity was roused. The slight frown 
 left his face. 
 
 " All right," he said, smiling ; " don't be im- 
 pertinent ; get along." 
 
 " Well, do you know that all the time I have 
 known you how many years ? over four years 
 I have never discovered what your business is ? 
 The first time I met you, on the steamer, I used 
 to think it had something to do with fish, because 
 you were always talking about fish in the Indian 
 Ocean. Well, I won't say you were always 
 talking about it, because sometimes you weren't ; 
 but in the intervals of being as nice as you know 
 how and sometimes you can be rather nice I 
 don't know if other people would think so, but I 
 sometimes think so " his smile, which at first 
 had been a little forced, had now become genuine 
 and cheerful, so genuine and cheerful that it 
 
 253
 
 The Spinster 
 
 was on the verge of breaking into a laugh " in 
 the intervals of that, you talked about fish in 
 the Indian Ocean, and the immense quantities 
 of it, and the demand for it in India, and how 
 profitable it could be made, and steam-trawlers, 
 and ice stores, and everything else connected 
 with the subject of fish." 
 
 " You never said it bored you." 
 
 " It didn't very much. But that's not the 
 point at all. I never saw anything in the papers 
 after that about the fleets of trawlers and the 
 acres of ice-sheds that were going to be set up in 
 India, and the next time I met you, which was 
 last year at the hospital, you had nothing what- 
 ever to say about fish not one word but you 
 had a great deal to say about mineral oils. You 
 were worked up to a white heat of enthusiasm 
 about that ; it was to be the sole motive power 
 of the future, it was hardly possible to exag- 
 gerate the magnitude which the demand for it 
 would reach, and those who had the wisdom and 
 forethought to obtain an interest in it could 
 expect to become millionaires in quite a short 
 space of time. I became quite learned in the 
 subject of spouters, and strata, and anticlines. 
 Before then I used to have a general idea that 
 oil came from whales." 
 
 " So it does, and it comes from seeds and nuts. 
 If you were asked if it's animal, vegetable, or 
 254
 
 The Spinster 
 
 mineral, you would be hard put to it, because it's 
 all three." 
 
 " So I made up my mind," said Mabel, " that 
 you had gone out of the fishmongering line, and 
 become an oil-merchant." 
 
 " Well, at any rate that's a better sounding 
 trade." He got up from his chair and sat on 
 the edge of the table. 
 
 " But now that I've met you again, it appears 
 that oil has followed fish its name is never 
 breathed but you talk to me incessantly about 
 irrigation. All the barren tracts of the earth's 
 surface, at present thought to be valueless, are 
 capable of yielding wealth, and irrigation is the 
 magician's wand which will bring it forth. Isn't 
 that it ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," said Register, warming instantly to 
 the subject, " there's not the least doubt the 
 possibilities of irrigation are nothing approaching 
 developed. It will astonish this sleepy crowd 
 when they hear of the Sahara growing " 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Mabel, " but you mustn't 
 talk about it now, because I have the ear of the 
 house, and irrigation is only an incident in my 
 argument." 
 
 " Oh, then, get on with your argument," said 
 Register, with sham irritability, laughing. 
 
 " Yes, well, you wanted to know why I said that 
 you can't carry things through, and now I have 
 
 255
 
 The Spinster 
 
 told you why. These various schemes of yours 
 are not wild schemes, they are all sensible and 
 practicable ; but you can't follow any one of them 
 steadily and consistently, through thick and thin, 
 and make it your life's work. One after another, 
 either because you get tired of them, or because 
 they don't immediately realise your most roseate 
 hopes, you throw them over. There are men 
 who will make fortunes out of fish, out of oil, and 
 out of irrigation, but I'm quite sure that one of 
 them will not be Horace Register." 
 
 " Is that the end of the sermon ?" asked he. 
 
 Mabel nodded. 
 
 " And what is the text ?" He evinced the 
 profoundest interest. 
 
 She smiled. " Is a text indispensable ?" 
 
 " It wouldn't be a sermon without. And you 
 said once you thought they came best at the 
 end." 
 
 " ' No man having put his hand to the plough ' 
 you know the rest." 
 
 " Texts are like statistics," said Register, 
 " they can be made to prove anything." 
 
 " And you are just the same in your treatment 
 of your friends," Mabel added. " You make a 
 great fuss with them for a little while, and then 
 you drop them. It doesn't matter so much 
 with businesses they are not troubled with 
 feelings ; but human beings don't like to be 
 256
 
 The Spinster 
 
 thrown over after a few weeks or months of 
 intimacy. They stake on the stability of the 
 friendships they make." 
 
 " Well, you are talking away from the book 
 now, at any rate," said Register, with glee. 
 ' You yourself are a standing proof of it. I've 
 known you, as you said just now, for over four 
 years, and here am I, at the end of that time, 
 sitting on your kitchen table." 
 
 " You've known me, in a sense, for four years," 
 admitted Mabel : "in the sense that it's four 
 years since we first met. But you've really only 
 known me for three separate periods of a few 
 months altogether." 
 
 "Oh, you are splitting. hairs," said Register, 
 jumping down from his perch. " Come along, 
 let's find some more comfortable seats." 
 
 They went into Mabel's sitting-room, which, 
 for all its simplicity, was very tastefully and 
 cosily furnished, and talked for another hour. 
 Then Register hurried away to keep a dinner 
 appointment. When he had gone, Mabel, smiling 
 a little, returned to the scullery, where the half 
 of the tea-things still remained unwashed. 
 
 She took up a nursing engagement the next 
 day, and did not see him again until she came 
 back from it, three or four weeks later. Then 
 one night she heard the ring for which she had 
 been hoping and waiting as she sat before her 
 
 257 R
 
 The Spinster 
 
 fire. She hurried to open the door, and saw him 
 standing on the mat. He was wearing an opera- 
 hat and a dark overcoat over evening dress, and 
 looked rather grey, as he always did after climbing 
 the steps, and was panting a little. He seemed 
 to be in excellent spirits, however, and when he 
 had looked for a peg upon which to hang his hat 
 and coat, had failed as usual to find one, and 
 had thrown them with disgust into her arms, 
 he informed her, to her consternation, that he 
 had come to say good-bye. He was going to 
 Egypt. 
 
 " How long shall you be away ?" she asked, 
 without attempting to disguise the shock he had 
 given her. 
 
 " I can't say at present. It may be only two 
 or three months, it may be six. I hope it will be 
 six, because that would mean that we are really 
 doing something." 
 
 " Irrigation ?" 
 
 " I should say so just rather." 
 
 " I wonder what you'll talk about when you 
 come back," she said, trying to smile. 
 
 There was more than the thought of losing him 
 for so long to distress her, more than the prospect 
 of six months of loneliness and friendless isolation ; 
 she knew that she would be intensely anxious 
 about him all the time he was away. She did 
 not believe he was in a fit state of health to make 
 
 258
 
 The Spinster 
 
 such a journey. She questioned if he himself 
 realised how serious his condition was, but her 
 practised eye had perceived symptoms from time 
 to time which raised an alarm in her heart she 
 could not still. 
 
 " I don't think you are well enough to go," she 
 said. 
 
 " Nonsense ! It will do me good. I want a 
 change of air." He was genuinely surprised to 
 see the look in her face. 
 
 " Don't you think I shall miss you ?" 
 
 " I hope so. I shall miss you." 
 
 She sat down, and he took a chair beside her. 
 
 " You ought not to have arranged it. Why 
 didn't you ask me first ? Think of six months in 
 Egypt all alone ! And you haven't the least idea 
 how to take care of yourself." 
 
 " I fancy I have a very good idea," he said, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Oh, you must not go I can't let you go !" 
 she cried out suddenly, spontaneously stretching 
 an appealing hand to him. 
 
 He took the hand, and she let it remain pas- 
 sively in his, while he caressed it and stroked it. 
 It was the first time he had done so since their 
 meeting in Piccadilly. 
 
 " You women are made of wonderful stuff," 
 he said. " In all the circumstances, I think 
 it's as splendid as it's astonishing that you should 
 
 259
 
 The Spinster 
 
 mind like this. Honestly, I didn't think you 
 would. I feel I should like to tell you a little 
 something. It's a very little something, and I 
 dare say you will think it's rather an impertinent 
 something, and not worth telling. But you are 
 worth being honest with. I never so nearly loved 
 a woman before. That isn't quite so cheap and 
 trifling as it sounds, because I have known a good 
 many women in the course of my life, and I 
 thought I had got so hardened that I couldn't be 
 made to feel at all. I didn't know this at Le 
 Touquet, but I knew it as soon as I had left, 
 and I found it out particularly when I was fast 
 on my back all those weeks. That is really 
 the test. When you are well you judge by wrong 
 standards. The woman a man loves is the 
 woman he wants when he is ill." 
 
 Mabel had flushed a little. She was pleased 
 exquisitely, disproportionately pleased and the 
 fact came out on her cheeks ; her eyes were bent 
 to her lap. She had the feeling that, ever so 
 little more, and she might look round upon the 
 best of all possible worlds ; a little more, and that 
 small room of hers would focus all the colour 
 and light and beauty that life held. 
 
 After a pause, " You won't forget to write ?" 
 she said. " I shall live for your letters." 
 
 " No no no." 
 
 " You say that now, but when you get out 
 260
 
 The Spinster 
 
 there, and interested in your work you know 
 what you are." 
 
 ' Yes, I know what I am, and, knowing what 
 I am, I say deliberately that I won't forget to 
 write. Will that content you ?" 
 
 ' You are so foolish," she said, without giving 
 evidence of any marked relief of her anxiety. 
 " I think I will write a list of all the things you 
 must be careful not to do. But I suppose you 
 will never look at it, if I do ? Will you promise 
 to pin it up in your room, and always to read it 
 every morning ?" 
 
 " What sort of things ?" he asked. " Do you 
 mean, ' Don't run upstairs,' ' Don't bathe after 
 a heavy meal ' things of that kind ? Certainly 
 not," he answered emphatically, laughing. 
 
 " Then I'll always put them at the beginning 
 of my letters ; then you'll have to read them, or, 
 if you don't, you will be reminded of them." 
 For the first time since he had spoken of his 
 feeling for her, she turned her eyes and looked 
 into his face. " Horace, you will take care ?" 
 
 " Of course I will. I'm much too frightened 
 on my own account to do anything else." He 
 laughed, but behind the laugh there was a distinct 
 note of genuinely awakened apprehension. 
 
 Mabel got up. " Then I'll make you some 
 tea," she said. 
 
 " Wait just a moment," said Register. He, 
 261
 
 The Spinster 
 
 too, got up and walked across the room to one 
 of her cabinets. He opened a lower cupboard, 
 and, after looking inside, took out a bottle of 
 whisky, and eyed it with immense satisfaction. 
 " I thought I hadn't finished it," he said. 
 " There's nearly half a bottle left. No tea for 
 me, thank you." 
 
 " I had forgotten all about it," said Mabel. 
 
 Register put down the bottle on a little round 
 table with a polished top, where it looked frankly 
 out of place beside a vase of chrysanthemums. 
 " Now all that is needed," he said, " is a glass 
 and a syphon of soda-water." 
 
 " Oh, you man !" cried Mabel. " Why one 
 glass?" 
 
 " Well, you have lived with half a bottle of 
 whisky for a month without touching it," he 
 retorted with delight, "so by dint of bringing 
 severe mental pressure to bear, I came to 
 the conclusion that a second glass would be a 
 redundancy." 
 
 Mabel went and fetched him his glass and soda- 
 water, and then they sat and talked for another 
 hour. All the time while she spoke, while she 
 listened, while she laughed, Mabel's mind was 
 fixed upon the moving clock, and straining to 
 stay its hands. She dared not frame in her brain 
 the wordless fear in her heart six months, or 
 even three, even two, while he would be in a 
 262
 
 The Spinster 
 
 foreign land, was long to look forward to, and 
 his health now, as well as his versatility, was a 
 factor against her she dared not count the 
 possible value of the minutes that were being 
 torn from her as they talked. 
 
 The moment of parting came inexorably. 
 Register got up and put on his coat. Usually he 
 left with a light word of farewell, without even 
 touching her hand. To-night he hesitated, he 
 paused. Mabel was standing near him, her 
 hands clasped tight under her chin, striving to 
 stem, to hold the tumult of anxious emotions 
 that was shivering through her. Spontaneously 
 her strained face turned up to his. Saying some- 
 thing she hardly knew what she moved a little 
 closer to him. It was all the sign he needed. He 
 put his arms round her, and the clasped hands, 
 with her head sunk over them, dropped upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 He crushed her to him. " Never so nearly," 
 he cried, " never so nearly as you !" The words 
 were joyous, almost exultant all the abounding, 
 happy spirit of the essential man, the ground- 
 stone upon which was cut the many little facets 
 of his character, was in them. " When I come 
 back " 
 
 The sentence was broken by a sharp cry of 
 pain. His grip relaxed, and Mabel realised, with 
 a shock of terror, that he was falling. Only by 
 
 263
 
 The Spinster 
 
 disengaging herself instantly and throwing an arm 
 about him did she get him to a chair before he 
 collapsed. 
 
 Her hand was on his pulse. The suddenness 
 of the stroke of Fate which had been dealt, the 
 swiftness and depth of the drop from the wild 
 air on the cliff's edge to the hard, jagged rock at 
 its foot, was blinding. While she had been in his 
 arms, while he was on the point of speaking, she 
 had begun to believe that, after all, the course of 
 events might work out to a happiness which had 
 passed almost beyond her dreams. Now, in a 
 second, beyond the power of mind to measure 
 in human pain, she found herself staring, face 
 to face, at a boding calamity more shattering, 
 more desolating, than the worst that she had 
 known. 
 
 He spoke once. He opened his eyes and 
 appeared to be conscious of the anguish and fear 
 in her face, and to wish to mitigate it. He smiled 
 at her. " It's all up," he said ; and just managed 
 to add : " Never mind." 
 
 Mabel did not waste a moment. She drew him 
 from his sitting position and laid him on his 
 back on the floor, with a cushion beneath his 
 head. Then she rushed out and, after two 
 failures, succeeded in obtaining the remnants of 
 a bottle of brandy from a neighbour in the block. 
 Register could no longer speak when she returned. 
 264
 
 The Spinster 
 
 She made him drink some of the spirit, and then, 
 hatless, sped down the flight of stairs and out 
 of the building for a doctor. The house of the 
 nearest was only three hundred yards away. 
 She found it in darkness : the doctor had gone to 
 bed. In response to her urgent summons, he got 
 up at once. Mabel waited on the doorstep, dis- 
 traught by the delay, her hair blown by the gusty 
 wind, again and again beseeching the doctor, 
 through the tube, to hurry. 
 
 In five minutes he appeared at the front-door, 
 pulling on an overcoat. When they reached the 
 block of flats, Mabel took him up the steps at 
 such a pace that, by the time they came to the 
 top, the good man, who was no longer young, 
 seemed himself in some danger of suffering a 
 heart seizure. 
 
 They went into the sitting-room. Register was 
 lying on the floor, perfectly still. The doctor, 
 panting a little, bent over him and examined him. 
 It did not take long. He raised and straightened 
 himself, with a slight effort,' and turned to Mabel. 
 
 " He's gone," he said. 
 
 Mabel turned deathly white, and did not utter a 
 word. She stood upright, looking, not at him, 
 but through him. The doctor, accustomed to 
 scenes of sorrow and of shock, found himself 
 contending with a sense of awkwardness, of 
 shame. He was assailed by the feeling that he 
 
 265
 
 The Spinster 
 
 himself had done her some immeasurable hurt. 
 He had heard women shriek, he had seen them 
 fling themselves on the dead ; he had never seen 
 one, when this news was told her, stand immobile 
 and silent, like a woman turned to marble. 
 
 Momentarily at a loss what to do, he looked 
 round the room, and his eyes fell on the bottle 
 of brandy. With the professional instinct or 
 habit to find a medicinal remedy in an emergency, 
 he poured out a little of the spirit and offered 
 it to her. She quietly pushed the glass aside 
 and put her hand over her eyes. 
 
 He felt it necessary to speak, to say something, 
 to throw her mind into normal processes. 
 
 " Had your husband shown any previous 
 symptoms ?" he began. 
 
 " He was not my husband." 
 
 The good doctor was a man with sufficiently 
 delicate feelings ; he was only anxious to find 
 the right word. 
 
 " I should have said, no doubt, your fiance." 
 
 Mabel dropped her hand. Her eyes lighted, 
 her form lifted. Her voice had some super- 
 physical quality intensely quiet, yet intensely 
 cogent like speech from speechless lips. " He 
 was my lover thank God !" 
 
 In the shadow of grief so great, so overwhelm- 
 ing and so exalting, the doctor felt curiously and 
 profoundly the insignificance of his sex. Here 
 266
 
 The Spinster 
 
 was something a height, and depth, and dignity 
 of emotion which a man could not reach. It 
 seemed to him that he was in the presence of the 
 embodiment of grief, which can only be repre- 
 sented and exemplified by woman. 
 
 It was somewhat difficult for him to refer to 
 the practical necessities which the tragedy 
 entailed. 
 
 " Are you able to communicate with his 
 friends ?" he asked. 
 
 " He has no friends in London that I know of," 
 she answered, " more intimate than I. He was 
 staying at an hotel." 
 
 " And you are alone here, as I understand, in 
 the flat ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The doctor hesitated. " You realise that an 
 inquest will be necessary ?" 
 
 " I did not know." She was speaking coldly, 
 automatically. The doctor and his words were 
 far off : she was only partially sensible of his 
 presence. 
 
 " In those circumstances, the best course, I 
 think, will be to communicate with the coroner's 
 officer and have him removed to the mortuary." 
 
 This suggestion shot straight to Mabel's con- 
 sciousness. " No," she flamed. " To-night he 
 is mine mine only. To-night, at least, I will 
 keep him." Then, with an effort, she forced 
 
 267
 
 The Spinster 
 
 herself to speak with some approach to her normal 
 manner. " You have done all that you can. 
 Thank you. I am quite in control of myself. 
 Please go." 
 
 The doctor was very reluctant. He was not 
 sure how far she was personally in a condition to 
 be left to such a vigil. Had he known anything 
 of her family history, he might have been more 
 reluctant still. But, in her intense desire to be 
 left, she strung herself to the point of continuing 
 to talk calmly, and explained to him that she was 
 a hospital nurse, accustomed to similar scenes. 
 At last, though with an uneasy conscience, he 
 consented to grant her request. 
 
 So Register was laid upon her own bed. And 
 all that night she watched over him, her trouble 
 too deep for words, for tears. 
 
 268
 
 Chapter XVIII 
 
 THERE was one consolation to which Mabel clung. 
 She repeated it to herself, again and again, during 
 the days when the sting of loss was newest and 
 most poignant. He might have died in a far-off 
 
 land ; he might have died She did not 
 
 clothe the second thought in words. Of all the 
 women he had known, she was the last his eyes 
 had rested upon ; she was the last his lips had 
 touched. 
 
 The knowledge of that, kept ever present in 
 her mind, was the spring from which she drew 
 courage to carry her through the trying incidents 
 which followed his death ; through the interviews 
 she had to grant ; through the painful personal 
 questions she had to answer ; through the ordeal 
 of the inquest and of the witness-box. 
 
 While she sat at the back of the crowded little 
 court-house, waiting her turn, she became op- 
 pressed by choking nausea, partly induced by the 
 nervous strain she was undergoing, but much 
 more by the acute realisation that all this hard, 
 drab routine of unfeeling officialdom, in which 
 
 269
 
 The Spinster 
 
 so many people appeared to have some common- 
 place interest or part, was being carried out in 
 order to obtain authority to bury the man she 
 had loved. Only a few days before he might 
 have been sitting there, watching such a scene, 
 dryly smiling as he twisted his fair moustache. 
 Only a few days before he might have come to 
 her afterwards with lively, caustic comments, in 
 the tone he adopted towards the established 
 functions of what he delighted to consider a hope- 
 lessly waterlogged civilization. They were there 
 because Horace Register had died ; and it came 
 home to her with a smothered sob that she alone 
 among the crowd felt any nearer concern than 
 came from practical duty or from casual curi- 
 osity. 
 
 When the medical evidence had been quickly 
 given, she was called. She took her stand in the 
 box. She was so pale, so clearly beaten and 
 bowed with grief, that the people in the court 
 felt it to be an impertinence to look at her. The 
 coroner, impressed with the same feeling, put his 
 questions as considerately as he could: 
 
 " Your name is Mabel Christopherson ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you live at 83, Michaelmas Mansions ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I think you are a certificated nurse ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 270
 
 The Spinster 
 
 ' Trained at St. Bartholomew's Hospital ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Are you still connected with the hospital ?" 
 
 " No, I do private work now." 
 ' You mean you attend patients at their 
 homes ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ' You were a friend of the deceased ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How long had you known him at the time of 
 his death ?" 
 
 " For about five years, but I had only known 
 him well for rather less than two years." 
 
 " He was in the habit of visiting you at your 
 flat ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " At night ?" 
 
 " Sometimes at night, sometimes in the day- 
 time." 
 
 " You must forgive me for asking you this 
 question it is necessary I believe that your 
 friendship with the deceased had been of an 
 intimate character ?" 
 
 " Yes, but not recently, not in London." She 
 did not lower her voice she spoke in the same 
 level, quiet tones she had adopted from the 
 beginning of the interrogations nothing seemed 
 to her to matter now. 
 
 There was a slight stir in court. The reporters 
 271
 
 The Spinster 
 
 did not miss the answer. If there was one item 
 in the proceedings which, without exception, they 
 would not have omitted from their copy, it was 
 that answer. And that is no reflection on the 
 reporters ; it is no reflection on the newspaper 
 proprietors ; it is a reflection on the scandal- 
 mongering, prying propensities of the Anglo- 
 Saxon public. 
 
 The coroner continued his questions. " How 
 long had he been with you on the night of his 
 death ?" 
 
 " About two hours." 
 
 " What had you been doing ?" 
 
 " Talking." 
 
 " Nothing else ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Did he seem to be in his usual health ?" 
 
 " He had not been in very good health for some 
 time." 
 
 " What had been the matter with him ?" 
 
 " He had been troubled by his heart, following 
 rheumatic fever." 
 
 " Except for that, was he in his usual health 
 and spirits when he came to see you that night ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Had he any troubles or anxieties that you 
 were aware of ?" 
 
 " None that I knew of." 
 
 " Was your talk that evening quite amicable ?" 
 272
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Oh yes." 
 ' There was no quarrel ?" 
 
 " Oh no." 
 
 " No friction of any kind ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And what followed ?" 
 
 " Do you mean " Mabel felt she would 
 
 choke. The coroner's question had suddenly 
 recalled in full vividness focussed in a white 
 light upon the screen of her mind all the wild 
 shock, the terror, and lament of the final scene. 
 
 To allow her time, the coroner gave some 
 instructions about the opening of a window. 
 While this was being attended to, she made a big 
 draft upon her reserve of courage. Her lips 
 quivered ; but she did not give way. 
 
 " I want you to tell me about his death," said 
 the coroner. 
 
 " Yes," said Mabel. Her hands were clenched 
 together low down in front of her, and her head 
 was bent. " We were saying good-bye he was 
 going away for some months. ..." She spoke 
 slowly, with a slight halt between each phrase. 
 
 The coroner helped her. " He was embracing 
 you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Straining you ?" 
 " Yes." 
 
 " If his heart was seriously affected, did not 
 273 s
 
 The Spinster 
 
 you think that that was rather an unwise thing 
 for him to do ?" 
 
 " I'm afraid I didn't think," Mabel answered, 
 after a pause of several seconds. 
 
 " And what happened then ?" 
 
 She made a struggle. " I heard him cry out." 
 
 " You heard him cry out, and then you saw 
 that he was dying ?" 
 
 " I saw that he was very ill." 
 
 " What did you do ?" 
 
 " I laid him down, gave him brandy, and went 
 for a doctor." 
 
 " Did he say anything ?" 
 
 " Yes, he said, I think, ' It's all up,' "there 
 was a long pause this time " and ' Never 
 mind.' ' 
 
 " And when you returned with the doctor you 
 found that he was dead ?" 
 
 Mabel tried to say " Yes," but a single un- 
 controllable sob broke through the rigid cordon 
 of restraint she had set about herself, and 
 smothered the word. 
 
 The coroner proceeded to question her about 
 the further events of that night, and then she 
 was allowed to leave the box. She went straight 
 out of the court and home, and there, at last 
 alone, broke down utterly, half-swooning in the 
 reaction of tortured nerves loosed from the strain 
 of the rack. 
 
 274
 
 The Spinster 
 
 That evening and the next morning there were 
 full reports of the inquest in the papers. Some 
 of them reproduced photographs of her in the 
 witness-box. Everyone read these reports. Hugh 
 read them, and broke into fierce floods of impotent 
 wrath and blue imprecations at the breakfast- 
 table. Clara read them, and threw down the 
 already crumpled and tattered paper with indig- 
 nation and disgust. To allow a man with a weak 
 heart to come to her flat alone at night was an 
 act of imbecile folly surpassing any that even 
 Mabel had hitherto accomplished. The people 
 at Blanford read them, and marvelled that this 
 viper had lain so long unsuspected in their 
 bosom. 
 
 All that did not matter to Mabel. But her 
 patients read the reports, and that did matter. 
 For that inexorableness in human affairs which 
 strikes at the soul of everyone in times of calamity 
 now fronted her ; the world did not pause in its 
 course for her, the heavens did not fall ; practical 
 necessities continued, natural laws survived ; 
 though life was saltless and profitless, she must 
 go on living, she must go on working. Two 
 days after the inquest, the day following the 
 funeral, her small trunk was carried down the 
 steps from her flat and placed on a taxi-cab. 
 She drove to a house in Kensington. Some 
 time before she had engaged to take over from a 
 
 275
 
 The Spinster 
 
 fellow-nurse the care of a girl of sixteen, suffering 
 from spinal weakness. The date originally fixed 
 for her to go had been the same upon which 
 the inquest had fallen, but she had obtained the 
 two days' extension without entering into par- 
 ticulars of her reason for wishing for it. 
 
 Her patient proved to be a pretty girl, with a 
 natural and lovable disposition, who accepted 
 her lot with wonderful pluck and cheerfulness. 
 Mabel quickly became attached to her, and 
 contrary to her professional desire, in ordinary 
 circumstances, for change and new experience, 
 and her dread of falling under the enervating 
 effects of the jog-trot routine which a chronic 
 ailment involves she was glad that she would 
 probably remain with her for a considerable 
 time, perhaps for several months. The presence 
 of this child provided an atmosphere in which 
 the heaviness and bitterness of her own grief, to 
 be borne in silence and without sympathy, could 
 best be endured and battled with. There was 
 good hope, too, that the girl would ultimately 
 recover ; so their days were not darkened by the 
 suspending tragedy which cast its heavy shadow 
 over so many of her cases. 
 
 One afternoon, before she had been installed a 
 
 week, when her patient was asleep and she was 
 
 sitting sewing in her own room, there came a 
 
 tap at the door. She said " Come in," and Mrs. 
 
 276
 
 The Spinster 
 
 Kingsforth-Clarke, her employer, the mother of 
 the girl, duly accepted the invitation. She was 
 a woman inclined to be stout, inclined to be 
 fussy, and inclined to be fashionable all ten- 
 dencies which increased in steady ratio with her 
 husband's financial prosperity. She had been 
 making a series of social visits and had not 
 yet removed her outdoor clothes. Her presence 
 in Mabel's room was, in fact, the immediate 
 outcome of the social visits in question. 
 
 Mabel rose when she came into the room. 
 Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke would not have liked it 
 if she had failed in that particular ; she would 
 not have liked to be denied the opportunity to 
 invite her to sit. 
 
 " Sit down, Miss Christopherson," she said, in 
 the kindest way, and at the same time sat down 
 herself. 
 
 " How is Dorothy ?" 
 
 " She is asleep just now," said Mabel. " I 
 have been reading to her. She is wonderfully 
 well in herself, and I never knew anyone more 
 patient and cheerful in long illness than she is." 
 
 Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke was not really particu- 
 larly interested at that moment in her invalid 
 daughter's health, and her question had been 
 merely of a prefunctory and introductory kind. 
 
 "I'm sorry to speak on a personal subject," 
 she said. "I'm sure you will forgive me, but 
 277
 
 The Spinster 
 
 I have been told this afternoon, or it has been 
 suggested to me, that you are the same Miss 
 Christopherson who figured the other day in 
 that very painful Clapham case." 
 
 Mabel coloured slightly. " Yes, that is true," 
 she answered. 
 
 Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke began slowly to take 
 off her gloves. " I don't wish to say anything 
 unkind," she said, " but don't you think it would 
 have been more satisfactory if you had told me 
 that before you came ?" 
 
 " I didn't know it was likely to happen when 
 the engagement was made," replied Mabel, " and, 
 when it did, I didn't feel that I was any the less 
 able to look after your daughter because I had 
 been through a period of great trouble." 
 
 " No, no, of course not ; I wasn't thinking of 
 that. It must have been a very trying time, 
 and I feel sincerely sorry for you. But you have 
 not forgotten that there were revelations at the 
 trial at the inquest, I should say." 
 
 Mabel felt her blood stir. " I'm sure you can't 
 think," she said, with a flush of indignation, 
 " that I could be capable of attempting to instil 
 what are called ideas into a girl of Dorothy's age, 
 even if I had any to instil, which is not the 
 case." 
 
 " Not for one moment please don't misunder- 
 stand not for one moment. This is a difficult 
 278
 
 The Spinster 
 
 subject to speak about. I am a broad-minded 
 woman, for my own part." Mrs. Kingsforth- 
 Clarke smoothed on her lap the gloves she had 
 removed, and looked up with a meritorious air. 
 " I read all the books and go to all the plays, 
 and I don't object to discussion among grown- 
 up people. If I had been your patient or " 
 she hesitated just appreciably " or my husband, 
 it would have been a different matter. And I'm 
 sure, as far as that goes, that Dorothy couldn't 
 have anyone to nurse her who would be more 
 
 conscientious and kind. But " After an 
 
 expressive pause she returned to the smoothing 
 of her gloves, with the suggestion in her manner 
 that Mabel could necessarily fill in for herself all 
 the unfortunate remainder. 
 
 " But what, Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke ?" asked 
 the latter, leaning a little towards her. 
 
 " People don't know you, they only hear of 
 you, and, besides, many of them, as you know, 
 are very bigoted in these matters. They would 
 say that I was not doing my duty to Dorothy." 
 
 Mabel sat back in her chair, took up her sewing, 
 and made a few stitches. " Yes, it's what people 
 may think," she said, a little bitterly. " It's 
 always what people may think, what people may 
 say." 
 
 Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke bridled slightly. " I 
 don't pretend to be superior to the opinion of 
 279
 
 The Spinster 
 
 others," she said. " I should be very sorry to 
 lose you," she added, after a pause. 
 
 Mabel, in her turn, waited for a few seconds. 
 " Of course, if that is your feeling," she said, " I 
 will leave you free to fill my place." 
 
 " I think that, in the circumstances," said 
 Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke, with evident relief, 
 " sorry as I shall be, I think that in the 
 circumstances it will be better. I am sure you 
 understand ?" 
 
 Mabel felt slightly resentful. She had just 
 settled, she was fond of her patient, she did not 
 wish to leave, and she did not think that there 
 was any reason why she should. " To tell the 
 truth, not quite," she said. " You say you 
 haven't the slightest fear that I should attempt 
 to put any wrong ideas into your daughter's head, 
 and that you are perfectly satisfied with me as a 
 nurse, and yet you invite me to go. I like 
 Dorothy very much ; she has a lovable nature ; 
 I think I understand her case, and I hoped to 
 see a real improvement in her before I had to 
 leave her." 
 
 " It is a very difficult position to be in," pleaded 
 Mrs. Kingsforth-Clarke, who was becoming some- 
 what uncomfortable in the performance of a task 
 which she recognised as distinctly invidious in the 
 case of a woman of Mabel's manifest sincerity 
 of purpose. " I really don't know what to say ; 
 280
 
 The Spinster 
 
 I should feel much happier if you could see the 
 matter as I do." 
 
 ' Very well," said Mabel, deciding to accept the 
 inevitable with a cheerful face, "I'll try to do 
 that." She already felt a little compunction for 
 her previous speech, and some sympathy for a 
 woman who, after all, was merely the sport of 
 the conditions in which she lived. " When would 
 you like me to leave ?" 
 
 " Thank you so much," said Mrs. Kingsforth- 
 Clarke, getting up. She was obviously glad to 
 have got through a disagreeable duty. " What- 
 ever day will suit you best ; you must consider 
 your own convenience." 
 
 Three days later Mabel again packed her little 
 trunk and drove back to Clapham. 
 
 281
 
 Chapter XIX 
 
 AFTER her return from that short duty in Ken- 
 sington, and before she obtained another engage- 
 ment, Mabel was surprised one day to receive a 
 visit from the Anglican priest in charge of the 
 Church she attended. Except for the disclosures 
 she had been obliged to make at the inquest, 
 she would not have been surprised by it, for he 
 was a man accustomed to take note of the units 
 of his congregation, and to place his private 
 ministrations at their disposal. But she thought, 
 in the light of her accumulating experience, that 
 those disclosures would have acted as an effectual 
 deterrent, and she wondered for a few moments 
 if he had come to ask her to discontinue her 
 attendance at his Church, lest she should con- 
 taminate his flock, or at least to choose voluntary 
 quarantine in some isolated seat. If he had 
 read the reports and came in a friendly, conso- 
 latory spirit, she was exceedingly glad, not so 
 much on personal grounds, but as it would affect 
 her estimate of him as a minister of religion, and 
 through him of others. It .would be an act most 
 282
 
 The Spinster 
 
 surely and truly Christian, evidencing unexpected 
 breadth and elasticity of vision, and she was 
 certainly in a frame of mind to be chastened. 
 
 He was a man of good height and good build, 
 with sandy hair and the reddish complexion which 
 generally accompanies it. He had a reserved 
 manner and a cultured voice. He intoned beauti- 
 fully. It was said that a considerable section of 
 the feminine portion of his congregation came 
 long distances on purpose to hear his rendering 
 of the sentences and prayers. In conversation 
 he had a habit of twitching up one side of his 
 thin, immaculately-shaven lips, and he never 
 succeeded in looking quite straight at the person 
 he was addressing. Mabel had always supposed 
 his views on questions touching the relations of 
 men and women to be particularly rigid, for she 
 had heard him more than once in his sermons, 
 when he wished to indicate the lowest and 
 most abandoned of humanity, bracket the words 
 " murderers and adulterers." And it occurred to 
 her sometimes that the strength of that feeling 
 of his was perhaps reinforced by the fact that he 
 himself had a beautiful wife and three children, 
 to whom it would surely be not only an easy 
 matter, but a supreme joy, to maintain allegiance. 
 
 " This is very kind of you, Mr. Nourse," she 
 said, as she admitted him to her sitting-room. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Nourse. He always spoke in 
 283
 
 The Spinster 
 
 a somewhat vague way, as though he had other 
 subjects in his mind beside the one immediately 
 presented to it. " I heard you had had trouble. 
 I am sorry." 
 
 " Then you read the report of the inquest ?" 
 Mabel asked point blank, waiting with curiosity 
 and some amazement for his reply. 
 
 " Oh yes. I thought it my duty, when I saw 
 that you were involved. May I sit down ?" 
 
 He answered his own question by taking a 
 chair, and Mabel sat too. 
 
 " That crude ordeal must have been very 
 trying," he observed, " as well as the previous 
 loss of one to whom I gather you were deeply 
 attached." 
 
 Mabel had tears in her eyes. " I feel really 
 and indeed very grateful for your sympathy, Mr. 
 Nourse," she said sincerely. " I have been very 
 unhappy, and it has all been far worse to bear in 
 an atmosphere of friendless silence and chilly 
 misunderstanding." 
 
 " I didn't say as much as that. My position 
 to some extent prohibits it. But if I may divorce 
 myself for a moment or for the time of this 
 conversation from the Church, I can offer you 
 my sympathy my earnest personal sympathy." 
 He came as near as was possible for him to 
 meeting her eyes. 
 
 Mabel felt a little disappointed, but she an- 
 284
 
 The Spinster 
 
 swered honestly : " Even so, it is much especi- 
 ally from you. It is more than I have received 
 from anyone else." 
 
 Mr. Nourse left his chair, and took one next 
 her. ' You will find, as you go through life," he 
 said, " that in all our difficulties, whatsoever 
 they may be, it is only those who have gone 
 through the same troubles, or who are subject 
 to the same temptations, who can really feel 
 with us." 
 
 Mabel gave a sudden little half laugh, rather 
 to her own astonishment. " Then I should have 
 expected you to be the last to sympathise with 
 me," she said. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Mr. Nourse, bending 
 slightly towards her, " we can none of us claim 
 to be exempt from human frailties." 
 
 Mabel looked at him. " But you are married 
 and happy," she said. 
 
 " I am married," he answered. 
 
 " Surely you are not unhappy ?" 
 
 " That is a word capable of many shades of 
 meaning," he replied. " In many senses I am 
 not. Perhaps in the sense which would be 
 accepted as the ordinary sense I am not." 
 
 Mabel felt a little inquisitive. " Then why did 
 you pointedly omit the word ' happy ' just 
 now ?" 
 
 " Can you conceive a state," said Mr. Nourse, 
 285
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " which would fail of happiness and yet which 
 could not be described as unhappy ? Can you 
 conceive an unsatisfying state, a state of 
 neutrality ? Can you conceive a picture or a 
 poem which does not offend the mind, but 
 which does not inform or illuminate it ? And 
 can you conceive, finally, how such a picture or 
 such a poem would appear to a painter or a 
 poet ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mabel, slowly and with a little 
 hesitation. She was searching, still with curi- 
 osity, for his special meaning. 
 
 " And can you go further," he proceeded, 
 " and appreciate what might be the effect upon 
 such a man of seeing a picture which contained 
 conspicuously the merits which the work in his 
 own possession lacked ?" 
 
 " Very roughly," said Mabel. He mystified 
 her. Her faith in him was so absolute that an 
 explanation of the trend of his remarks, which in 
 the case of another man might immediately have 
 put her on the defensive, did not occur to her. 
 
 " Still, you understand ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Mr. Nourse took her hand. It seemed to 
 Mabel that he was pressing his sympathy some- 
 what beyond necessary measure, but she felt so 
 genuinely grateful for his kindness that she let 
 her hand remain. 
 
 286
 
 The Spinster 
 
 "So it follows," he went on, " that I am able 
 to feel with you in your temptations and trials. 
 And may I hope that, reciprocally, you are able 
 to feel with me ?" 
 
 Something in his tone startled her. She glanced 
 at his face. 
 
 " May I hope so ?" he repeated. 
 
 She grew hot ; she was beginning to feel some 
 alarm. " Of course," she replied nervously. 
 " That follows, doesn't it ?" 
 
 Mr. Nourse cleared his throat. " Hitherto," 
 he said, in his cultured, musical voice, " you have 
 known me only in one capacity. I hope we shall 
 become closer friends than we have been here- 
 tofore, and that you will learn to know me in 
 others. One is not able in my profession to 
 show all the inner man. I believe there are 
 few among the clergy and I say it without the 
 least offence to our calling who are not, in a 
 greater or less degree, acting a part. It is a 
 necessity of the office. The world would not 
 believe in us if we did not appear to be 
 supermen, and our ministry would be less 
 valuable. But in private life we may sometimes 
 unbend, and for my part, believe me, I am quite 
 human." 
 
 He drew her hand closer, and the expression 
 she saw on his face made her turn suddenly sick. 
 
 That ended doubt. She snatched away her 
 287
 
 The Spinster 
 
 hand and sprang from her seat. " I can't under- 
 stand you in the least," she cried. 
 
 He was quickly apologetic. " I went too far," 
 he said, also rising. " I was carried away by the 
 feeling that we were very wonderfully in harmony, 
 and allowed myself to go beyond permissible 
 limits. You were perfectly right to resent it. I 
 hope we shall meet as friends ?" 
 
 " I don't think we shall meet much more," said 
 Mabel. 
 
 " That must rest with you." Mabel had never 
 before realised how hard and unsympathetic that 
 well-inflected voice of his in reality was. " Your 
 position is evidently a happy one. There are not 
 many of us so placed that we can afford to forgo 
 friends." 
 
 No whit abashed, perfectly dignified and 
 master of the situation, conscious that the word 
 of a discredited woman, if Mabel should talk, 
 would be utterly scouted against his and recoil 
 upon her, he took his departure, and went home 
 to tea with his wife and children. Afterwards 
 he conducted a late afternoon service at his 
 church " Vespers," he called it attended by 
 two dozen women and one man. He wore a 
 green stole which clashed seriously with his 
 reddish hair and complexion. There was no 
 organist present, but he gave out a hymn and 
 led it himself with an unfalteringly correct ear; 
 288
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and the women and the man followed at a respect- 
 ful distance. That evening he held a class of 
 instruction for girls whom he was preparing for 
 confirmation. 
 
 Mabel was longer than usual in obtaining any 
 further work, but, when a fortnight had elapsed 
 after her return home, she was summoned to a 
 South London suburb to nurse a middle-aged 
 man who had had a stroke. His wife was a wiry, 
 plain woman, with a questionable accent and a 
 complacent manner, and there were five children 
 ranging from sixteen to six. These latter were 
 very much out of hand and rather bumptious 
 and disagreeable. Mabel was not surprised to 
 find in these circumstances that the house was 
 temporarily understaffed. It was one of those 
 houses where to be temporarily understaffed was 
 a chronic condition. 
 
 " Just at present we are without a housemaid," 
 Mabel was informed, upon her arrival, by the 
 mistress of the house, whose name was Johnson. 
 " I'm looking out for one, and I expect to 
 be suited in a few days. Until then, you won't 
 mind having to put up with things a little 
 you'll know how it is. With all the children at 
 home, and Mr. Johnson's unfortunate illness, it 
 makes everything rather a scramble." 
 
 Mabel knew what to expect. Among people 
 of this type she was always treated as a sort of 
 
 289 T
 
 The Spinster 
 
 upper servant, and when the mistress temporarily 
 was not " suited," she was expected to do a con- 
 siderable amount of servant's work. Though she 
 was single-handed with her patient, and her 
 legitimate duties in consequence were more 
 exacting than any Institution would have per- 
 mitted one of its nurses to undertake, she accepted 
 the conditions without protest. Experience had 
 taught her that she suffered less in the end by 
 doing so. Moreover, this particular case coming 
 after unwonted delay in obtaining work, she was 
 anxious to avoid the risk of being thrown upon a 
 further period of idleness. 
 
 " Putting up with things " proved to be an 
 elastic term with a wide range. She brought her 
 meals and her patient's meals from the kitchen, 
 and did practically all the cleaning both of her 
 own room and his. She cooked food for him 
 on the gas-stove in the room, and often washed 
 the crockery afterwards. She was never asked 
 to dine with the family ; that would have been 
 derogatory to their social position. It was an 
 exclusion which Mabel, for her part, was able to 
 accept with fortitude. 
 
 She was called " Nurse." For the first few 
 days her name was not known, or, if had been 
 mentioned, it had been heard with the ears and 
 not understood with the understanding. Then 
 one morning Mrs. Johnson burst into her room, 
 290
 
 The Spinster 
 
 pink with affront. A letter addressed to Mabel 
 had discovered the secret. 
 
 Mrs. Johnson was not of a literary turn of 
 mind, but she was in the habit of reading with 
 regularity and thoroughness a weekly paper which 
 devoted the major portion of its space to reports 
 of police cases and coroners' inquests. These, 
 with half a column or so of political and general 
 matter and a page of football, were presented to 
 its patrons as a resume of the week's news. It 
 must be supposed that the joy which is derived 
 from papers of this description, by households of 
 the Johnson kind, comes from the refreshing and 
 satisfying sense, infusing the readers, that they 
 are not as others are. 
 
 Mrs. Johnson, at any rate, read one of these 
 papers, and when she saw Mabel's letter, which 
 had been forwarded from her flat, a chord was 
 struck in her memory. She searched for the 
 paper, which providentially, as it appeared to 
 her had been saved from the flames, and 
 immediately identified the woman who was 
 ministering to her husband. She had this paper 
 in her hand when she appeared in Mabel's room. 
 
 The latter was making her bed. Her peaceful 
 domestic occupation and appearance stemmed for 
 a moment the tide of indignant accusation which 
 was on Mrs. Johnson's lips. 
 
 " Well, I never !" she commented, addressing 
 291
 
 The Spinster 
 
 herself aloud. She surveyed the stranger under 
 her roof for a few seconds, and then added : " No 
 one would have thought it to look at you !" 
 
 " Good-morning, Mrs. Johnson," said Mabel. 
 
 " I can't say ' Good-morning,' ' said the 
 matron, with dignity. " I have a painful duty 
 to perform. I'm sorry to say that I've found 
 out that you've deceived me." 
 
 " What is the matter ?" asked Mabel, though 
 she had more than a strong suspicion. She saw, 
 from the other woman's face, that once more it 
 would be necessary for her to pack her things and 
 remove her offending presence. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" repeated Mrs. Johnson, 
 with righteous wrath. " Don't you begin to talk 
 to me in that innocent voice. You would deceive 
 a saint, you would, with that look of yours." 
 She opened the paper, and banged it with the 
 flat of her hand. " There ! that is what the 
 matter is ! It says there, as you know very 
 well, in black and white print, that you had to 
 go up into the witness-box and confess that you 
 are a bad woman. And yet you come here and 
 take your place amongst us and mix with the 
 children, just as if you were an honest woman 
 this which has always been a respectable 'ou 
 house." She haggled a little with the aspirate, 
 but finally sounded it with emphasis, as if to 
 mark her disapproval of its recalcitrance. 
 292
 
 The Spinster 
 
 ' Yes, Mrs. Johnson," said Mabel quietly. 
 ' What the paper says is true. I don't deny it. 
 But I think you are upsetting yourself about it 
 rather more than is necessary." 
 
 This touched Mrs. Johnson's self-esteem to the 
 quick. " I must say that I consider that an 
 impertinent remark," she said, reverting to her 
 original air of pseudo-dignity, " from a woman 
 in your position to one in mine. I am not in the 
 habit of upsetting myself about trifles. If this 
 had been a trifle, there wouldn't have been any- 
 thing said. How you can look me in the face," 
 she suddenly exclaimed, " knowing what you 
 are !" 
 
 " But if I fulfil the purpose for which I am 
 here," asked Mabel, " what harm do you suppose 
 I can do ?" 
 
 " I say that a woman of your character," cried 
 Mrs. Johnson, who had now completely lost 
 control of her temper, " has no right to be nursing 
 a respectable man, the husband of a respectable 
 woman." She was particularly enamoured of 
 the word " respectable." It was an adjective 
 applicable, in her mind, to people who had not 
 figured in the weekly paper. 
 
 Her employer's utter lack of a grasp of pro- 
 portion somehow struck upon Mabel's sense of 
 humour. 
 
 " But even," she said, " if I had the dark 
 
 293
 
 The Spinster 
 
 designs on your husband which you seem to 
 imagine, I am afraid it is very obvious that he is 
 far from being in a condition to respond to 
 them." 
 
 Mrs. Johnson appreciated, upon that, that the 
 only course open to a respectable woman was to 
 close the interview. Accordingly she closed it. 
 
 " The eleven fifty-six," she said, " is the next 
 train for London, and the eleven-fifty-six is the 
 train you take." 
 
 She bounced out of the room, leaving the door 
 open, and Mabel, as she lifted the lid of her trunk 
 with a slight sigh, heard her shouting to one of 
 the children to go for a cab. 
 
 294
 
 Chapter XX 
 
 FROM that time onward the difficulty which Mabel 
 found in obtaining engagements and in keeping 
 them became a source of constant wearing anxiety. 
 Bereft of friends, utterly alone in the world, her 
 ability to maintain a fairly continuous stream of 
 employment alone stood between her and starva- 
 tion. With every failure the difficulty increased. 
 Each rebuff meant the loss, not of one patient 
 only, but of all that patient's relatives, friends, 
 and acquaintances who might subsequently need 
 the services of a nurse ; it cut off a whole potential 
 connection at the stem. After a time her doctors 
 began to desert her. " We are very sorry," they 
 said, " but people get to know of that unfortunate 
 affair, and then they blame us." She applied to 
 be taken on the staff of various Institutions in 
 London which send out trained nurses. Her 
 qualifications were beyond reproach, beyond 
 criticism ; but always the report of the inquest 
 had reached the Institutions before her, and had 
 placed her name upon their black books. 
 
 295
 
 The Spinster 
 
 It was unfortunate for her that she belonged to 
 a profession which demands that nothing un- 
 orthodox in the personal record of its members 
 shall have come under public notice. In some 
 vocations that is a condition less severely insisted 
 upon. The personal life of a journalist, of a clerk, 
 of a shopkeeper, is regarded as his or her own 
 business. A writer may live any life he likes, but 
 he must not hold objectionable views. No one 
 would have minded what opinions Mabel chose 
 to hold, but the record of her private life was 
 required to be like untrodden snow. 
 
 The successive humiliations she suffered came 
 in time to tinge her whole mental outlook, and 
 magnified, almost to a grotesque point, the atti- 
 tude of the world towards her. She thought that 
 people turned and looked at her in the street, and 
 pointed her out as " that awful Miss Christopher- 
 son." She thought that shop-assistants served 
 her, under their stock phrases, with covert con- 
 tempt, as a person beneath them. She thought 
 that omnibus conductors conveyed a slight regard 
 of her in the manner in which they punched her 
 tickets. The very postman's step, as he mounted 
 the stairs, dropped letters into the box of the 
 flat opposite, and went down again, appeared to 
 contain a conscious reflection on her unvisited 
 door. There were rarely any letters for her now. 
 Letters would have meant work ; and every time 
 296
 
 The Spinster 
 
 the well-known tread sounded on the stone steps, 
 making its way up by slow degrees, there was 
 almost a prayer in her heart. 
 
 It was not long before it became obvious that 
 the flat was an impossible luxury. She sold her 
 furniture and took furnished rooms. Later on, 
 when the proceeds of the sale were running low, 
 the two rooms became one. Offers of employ- 
 ment were now so infrequent that, whenever she 
 obtained one, she fell on her knees, hugging the 
 letter to her heart, crying tears of thankfulness. 
 In the long, crippling intervals of idleness she 
 taxed her brain almost passionately to show her 
 some means of earning money where the facts 
 of her personal history would be no detriment. 
 She might have done typewriting, but she had 
 no training, and she could not afford a machine. 
 She had known women who had made small 
 sums occasionally by writing articles for news- 
 papers and periodicals. This seemed to offer 
 a practicable opening : no inquiry would be 
 made about her ; it need not even be known 
 whether she were a woman or a man. She bought 
 some paper ; she struggled hard for weeks and 
 months. But she had no particular gift for 
 writing for print, and no experience of the kind 
 of matter required. After repeated, continuous 
 failure, she gave it up, because the outlay upon 
 postage stamps, for the sending and return of her 
 
 297
 
 The Spinster 
 
 manuscripts, was becoming too great a drain 
 upon her resources. 
 
 There is a form of employment known as that 
 of " lady cook." She was quite qualified for such 
 an office, and it would have kept her from starva- 
 tion. There came a time when she would have 
 adopted it, even without the " lady " perhaps 
 preferably so. But those who would have em- 
 ployed her in such a capacity would have em- 
 ployed her as nurse ; the barrier of her past was 
 up against her as rigidly and inexorably as in 
 her own profession. She was less fortunate even 
 than those members of the domestic class who 
 have " fallen once," on whose behalf some 
 charitably disposed person is willing to insert an 
 appeal in the Morning Post, asking some other 
 charitably disposed person to go a step further 
 and employ them. She wrote for advice to 
 prominent men who have identified themselves 
 with the fight against intolerance. But they were 
 as powerless as anyone else to afford her relief 
 in a world still unregenerate. They offered her 
 sympathy and their autographs, at a time when 
 she had already curtailed her meals and sold her 
 watch and the few jewels she possessed. 
 
 The mental anxiety and the physical trial which 
 
 she endured, in increasing scale, all through this 
 
 time, did not, acute as they were, represent the 
 
 extent of her suffering. There was a load upon 
 
 298
 
 The Spinster 
 
 her heart which was a source of deeper pain, 
 perhaps, than either. Even Andie, it seemed, had 
 deserted her. Even Andie ! His letters had 
 ceased abruptly about the time of Register's 
 death. Through all her movements and, as 
 time went on, she moved more and more fre- 
 quently, changing always to a cheaper and more 
 squalid lodging she was careful to leave her 
 trail, so that he could find her if he wished. But 
 Andie, who had been more than a brother to her 
 all his life, to whom she had been more than a 
 sister, did not write, did not come. To the loss 
 of all others she had become accustomed, recon- 
 ciled, long ago. Juggernaut the idol-faced em- 
 bodiment of convention, hypocrisy, and cant 
 had been reared into his car in her sight, and his 
 team had been harnessed. Hugh and Clara, the 
 parsons, the sportsmen, the lawyers, and the 
 women, shouted in triumph as they dragged him 
 over her. All that seemed to be in the nature of 
 things, somehow, however unjust. The suffer- 
 ing it caused her was simply the suffering from 
 the trampling feet and the spiked wheels. But 
 even Andie had yoked himself to the car of the 
 god. Even Andie spurned her with his heel. 
 The pain from that was not to be measured by 
 the weight of the wheels. The scalding tears 
 that broke from her and blinded her could not 
 measure it. It seemed incredible. Even Andie ! 
 
 299
 
 The Spinster 
 
 As month followed month, the opening which 
 remained to her for the exercise of the profession 
 to which she was devoted, and for the efficient 
 practice of which she had built upon a natural 
 aptitude the training and experience of nearly 
 twenty years, became constantly narrower and 
 still narrower ; within six months of Register's 
 death it had closed to a mere slit ; three months 
 later even that had disappeared, and the door 
 was completely shut and barred in her face. All 
 the nursing she did after that was voluntary work 
 among the poor with w r hom she was brought in 
 contact in the ordinary flow of whose lives she 
 had begun by that time to mix. They were not 
 in a position to demand to inspect her escutcheon, 
 and in general they were intensely grateful for 
 her services. 
 
 When her own profession was finally closed 
 against her, she made various attempts in others. 
 She tried artificial flower-making ; she tried can- 
 vassing tradesmen with various patent goods ; 
 she tried needlework. None of those who had 
 employment of such kinds to offer showed any 
 curiosity about her personal history, but they 
 required that the work should be satisfactorily 
 done. Mabel had had no training, and she did 
 not chance to have any natural forte in any of 
 those directions. At sewing, particularly, she 
 had never been an adept. She found out from 
 300
 
 The Spinster 
 
 people making a precarious livelihood, whom she 
 helped or who were moved to sympathy by the 
 new and obvious stringency of her position, where 
 she could obtain what was called " finishing 
 work " a hard and underpaid form of employ- 
 ment. She succeeded in procuring some, but, in 
 spite of her utmost efforts, she could not reach 
 the standard of speed and proficiency demanded 
 of her. Her employers told her plainly that there 
 were numberless women who could do better 
 work in less time. 
 
 She fought on, living more and more slenderly, 
 becoming more and more expert in the art of 
 minute economies, driven to pass her days in con- 
 ditions which were far more repulsive to her finer 
 grain than to those who had been habituated to 
 them from birth, yet somehow managing to keep 
 her courage. She intended to go on struggling 
 right through, whatever the end might be. In 
 no extremity would she strike her flag ; and no 
 conceivable privation would induce her to apply 
 to Hugh. 
 
 The people in whose midst she was now com- 
 pelled to live did not insult her, though many of 
 them knew, or guessed, the reason of her banish- 
 ment from her own circle. They possessed a 
 certain chivalry, and felt sorry for her. Some- 
 times they waxed warm with indignation at the 
 treatment she had suffered. The psychological 
 
 301
 
 The Spinster 
 
 geologist, cutting a section through the conical 
 mass which represents the intellectual growth of 
 humanity, can perceive certain central strata, 
 concentrating on the lower middle class, where 
 the attribute of intolerance, whether in moral or 
 religious matters, in the main is embedded. It is 
 found in ever decreasing quantity in the strata 
 above and below, until, in the philosopher at one 
 extreme, and in the roughest manual worker at 
 the other, it is almost entirely absent. 
 
 Some time in October, about a year after 
 Register's death, the problem of her means of 
 life became finally acute. She had no money 
 and no work, and she saw no prospect of obtaining 
 either. Everything saleable which she possessed 
 she had sold. For weeks she had not had enough 
 food, and her shoes were worn through in tramp- 
 ing the streets in search of employment. At that 
 time she occupied a small room in one of the side 
 streets in the Borough. An inventory of its 
 contents could have been made in one minute. 
 A bed, a table, a chair, some articles of toilet, 
 and a few cooking utensils that was the full 
 tally of all that stood on the bare boards between 
 the rickety door on one side and the empty grate 
 on the other. 
 
 She sat at the window, looking down into the 
 street below, insistently calling upon her weary 
 brain to show her some yet untried method of 
 302
 
 The Spinster 
 
 earning something, however little. A bedraggled 
 woman, with a baby in her arms, was trudging 
 down the middle of the road, singing. Her style 
 of progress along the street was slow and singular, 
 but absolutely regular. She walked two steps, 
 then stopped and scanned the windows, without 
 interrupting her singing ; again walked two steps, 
 and again stopped and scanned the windows. 
 During the time that Mabel was watching her, 
 two coppers fell, clinking on the metalled road- 
 way. She rather marvelled at the calm way the 
 woman could bend and pick them up, still with- 
 out any interruption of her dreary song. To 
 Mabel herself even those two pennies would have 
 been a godsend : she was hungry. Then she 
 applied to this occupation the test which now 
 came automatically from her mind, when any 
 means of earning money was suggested to it. 
 No one cared about that woman's past ; no one 
 inquired into the records of her private life. They 
 threw the coppers to her because they thought 
 she needed them. 
 
 She left the window and walked to and fro in 
 her room. She wondered if she could do it, if 
 she could bring herself even to this ? Then, all 
 at once, she tossed the wonder, the question, 
 aside. She was not in a position to parley with 
 herself. She would have to do it. She would 
 have to do it, or starve. After hours of weary 
 
 303
 
 The Spinster 
 
 and vain effort to think of an expedient to obtain 
 food, her brain, even fired at the thought : those 
 two clinking coins had eaten into her imagination. 
 
 She could sing better than that woman. If the 
 latter could earn twopence in a few minutes, how 
 much could she herself earn in an hour, in a day ? 
 She checked that line of thought. Even in 
 her weak state and her half-hysterical joy at 
 seeing this means to relieve her necessities, she 
 recognised its fallacy. Still, she must make some- 
 thing something. 
 
 She waited until evening before putting her 
 experiment into practice. Then she pinned on 
 her hat she had no cloak and descended the 
 steps from her lodging. As she walked through 
 the streets, her enthusiasm began to trickle away. 
 Soon it had all gone, but she kept to her purpose. 
 She would go some distance, till she came to a 
 neighbourhood where there would be no chance 
 that anyone would know her. She passed several 
 bakers' shops on her way, and the smell of the 
 bread urged her on. 
 
 It was a long time before she could decide 
 where to begin, or perhaps if one must be im- 
 placably accurate 1 before she could bring her 
 courage to the sticking-point. She walked up 
 and down several streets, and satisfied her mind 
 that, for one reason or another, they were not 
 suitable. Finally, however, she came to one 
 304
 
 The Spinster 
 
 which she could not conscientiously reject. It 
 fitted exactly the conditions she had set up in 
 her mind as desirable. It was some distance from 
 a main thoroughfare ; it was bounded on either 
 side by a row of small, meek, quiet houses ; and 
 there was not a person in sight from one end of 
 it to the other. 
 
 Mabel suddenly shivered. Then, as suddenly, 
 she walked quickly and resolutely to one end of 
 this street and took her stand precisely in the 
 middle of the road. Without giving herself time 
 to think, she opened her mouth and made an 
 attempt to sing. No sound at all came not the 
 faintest suspicion of a note. She glanced down 
 the street. It was still deserted, and no one in 
 the houses appeared to have noticed her or to 
 be the least interested in her. She made a second 
 attempt, and this time brought forth a note which 
 sounded so loud that she stopped abruptly and 
 looked round in alarm, expecting to find people 
 coming out of their houses to discover the cause 
 of the astonishing noise which had broken the 
 calm of the street. But the peaceful aspect re- 
 mained undisturbed ; not a door had been opened ; 
 there was still not a person in sight. 
 
 This gave her confidence, and at the third 
 attempt she managed to sing a verse of " Queen 
 of My Heart." She chose that old song, partly 
 because she knew the words, and partly from an 
 
 305 u
 
 The Spinster 
 
 odd, semi-superstitious feeling that, as it had 
 marked the beginning of her misfortunes, it 
 would be appropriate if, in some wonderful way, 
 it should mark the end. She had a nice voice, 
 and as she found the pitch of the street she 
 gathered further confidence. She heard two or 
 three windows opened, but she did not look up ; 
 she went steadily on. After she had been singing 
 about ten minutes, a copper tinkled down. In 
 all her life there had never been concentrated into 
 a second, joy so keen, so poignant, as that sound 
 gave her. Her impulse was to break off her song, 
 snatch up the coin, and hasten back straightway 
 to one of the baker's shops. She controlled it 
 and managed to finish the verse she was singing, 
 the tail of a hungry eye upon the small bronze 
 disc in the roadway, tensely fearful lest some 
 passer-by should attempt to appropriate it, pre- 
 pared to spring like a tigress upon one who did. 
 Then she picked up the penny, with an imita- 
 tion of the air of the professional she had seen in 
 the afternoon, and went to the next verse. Almost 
 immediately fortune smiled upon her a second 
 time. A benevolent old gentleman who was walk- 
 ing through the street came up and spoke to her. 
 He called her " my dear," told her to be careful 
 not to take cold, and gave her twopence. 
 
 When she reached the end of the street, she 
 went into another similar to it. She tried songs 
 306
 
 The Spinster 
 
 with rather more subtle motives, but she found 
 that the people liked the sentimental ones best. 
 " The Holy City," which a happy inspiration put 
 into her mind, particularly proved to be a 
 favourite. One woman of ample fabric wept 
 ostentatiously at her front-door, while she was 
 singing it, but did not more materially express 
 her appreciation. She found also that the people 
 who gave to her were chiefly those who were 
 poor themselves. Those appearing to be in 
 better circumstances passed her, for the most 
 part, with airy indifference. In a more populous 
 street, which she reached later, a labouring man, 
 returning from his work, crossed the road diagon- 
 ally in order to meet her, and almost sheepishly 
 slipped a penny into her hand. 
 
 At the end of an hour and a half she had earned 
 ninepence. It was a result far short of her high 
 anticipations, but she decided to stop. She was 
 very tired, and the unaccustomed demands upon 
 it in the open air had strained her voice. On 
 her way home she went into a shop and bought 
 some buns. They were given to her in a paper 
 bag. She thought she would take them into her 
 own room and eat them there ; then she thought 
 she would allow herself just one bite on the way. 
 By the time she reached the foot of her stairs the 
 bag was empty. She crumpled it in her hand 
 and left it on the pavement. 
 
 307
 
 The Spinster 
 
 The following night was wet an impossible 
 night for singing in the open, even if her shoes 
 had been sound so she stayed in her room. But 
 on the night after she again made an excursion 
 upon the streets. Fearing to surfeit her friends 
 in the district she had already visited, she started 
 in the opposite direction from her door, and tried 
 an entirely new neighbourhood. Whether the 
 people there were of less benevolent propensities, 
 or whether there were some other reason, for- 
 tune proved to be more chary of her favours even 
 than on her previous attempt. After an hour's 
 continuous singing, she had received two pennies 
 and one halfpenny. 
 
 Utterly depressed, she was passing by a quiet 
 backway from one road to another, when a well- 
 dressed man, who had apparently been following 
 her down the street in which she had been singing, 
 overtook her. 
 
 " You ought not to have to be doing this," he 
 said, coming, she thought, rather needlessly close. 
 " I can tell from your voice that it's right out of 
 your plane." 
 
 " Unfortunately, it's necessary," said Mabel. 
 
 " Oh, but that's absurd," said the man. " You 
 really must let me help you temporarily." 
 He felt in his waistcoat pocket, and allowed 
 her to see a sovereign. " But first of all 
 it's cold standing here come and have supper 
 308 
 
 -
 
 The Spinster 
 
 somewhere. Do then you can tell me about 
 yourself." 
 
 Mabel did not misunderstand him. To a weak 
 and famished woman it was an iniquitous tempta- 
 tion. She did not immediately and indignantly 
 fling it from her ; she couldn't she was too 
 hungry, too driven. She looked at it ; she 
 examined it. Within that tiny disc that she had 
 seen, which the man still had in his hand, there 
 was life for a month. All the things on the menu 
 of a restaurant supper suddenly floated before 
 her. It seemed to her that she could not lose 
 more than she had lost, suffer more than she had 
 suffered. The man was not ill-looking. He was 
 a cad, but he was a superficially pleasant cad. 
 There was only one little particle of an anchor 
 to hold her. If she had been absolutely sure that 
 Andie had failed her, if she had seen him with 
 her own eyes throw a stone, she would have 
 taken the sovereign. 
 
 The man took her arm. " Come along, come !" he 
 urged, in a familiar undertone. " Don't be silly !" 
 
 Out of the mists of her mind she saw Andie 
 looking at her. The picture of him was wonder- 
 fully clear, as if it had been thrown on a white 
 screen. He seemed to be speaking to her. He 
 seemed to be speaking, and to wish her to answer. 
 Suddenly and passionately, she dragged her arm 
 from the man's grasp, and struck him with all 
 
 309
 
 The Spinster 
 
 her strength across the face ; then fled away round 
 a corner. 
 
 That ended her street - singing. When she 
 reached her room she was utterly spent in mind 
 and body and heart. She cast herself, dressed, 
 upon the bed, and the twopence halfpenny, so 
 hardly earned, dropped from her hand, coin by 
 coin, upon the floor. 
 
 The next morning it seemed scarcely to be 
 worth while to get up ; but about midday she 
 rose and went to the window, and sat looking out. 
 From the height of her room she could see, above 
 the houses opposite, interminable ranks of 
 chimney-pots. A great number of them were 
 surmounted by cowls of all manner of grotesque 
 shapes. A thin fog was mingling with them, 
 which made their shapes appear still more gro- 
 tesque. It was not a London fog, but a damp, 
 dismal, drizzling mist. 
 
 She had exhausted her resources ; there was 
 nothing else that she could try. She was very 
 hungry and very cold, and her spirit was utterly 
 gone. There was no fire in the room, and no 
 food, and no hope in her heart. 
 
 So she sat and looked at the queer-shaped cowls, 
 and watched the mist wreathing hi amongst them. 
 They were all devices for people who had smoke 
 to go up their chimneys. Juggernaut, she was 
 thinking, had finished his work. The last wheel 
 had gone over her, the last stone had been thrown. 
 310
 
 Chapter XXI 
 
 THERE was a knock at the door. 
 
 Mabel thought it was the landlady in quest of 
 her overdue rent. " Come in," she said. 
 
 She could not pay, and she could not now even 
 promise. She would have to go to go some- 
 where, she did not know where. She could only 
 interest herself in the ingenious construction of 
 the cowls. 
 
 The cheap hinges creaked, and the door stuck, 
 as it always did, at a particular point. Some 
 private comment upon this circumstance was 
 made by a male voice outside, and some addi- 
 tional pressure was exerted. Then, having passed 
 the point of recalcitrance, the door, again accord- 
 ing to custom, burst open with a jerk. 
 
 It was not the landlady. It was Andie for 
 the moment concerned by his experience with 
 the door, upon which, as he came in, he turned a 
 backward glance of humorous animosity. 
 
 " Hello, Mabs !" he said cheerfully, in his old 
 tone, using his old phrase. " I thought I should 
 never find you. I was searching all yesterday."
 
 The Spinster 
 
 He would have spoken in precisely the same 
 way had he discovered his sister in an elegant 
 suite of rooms at the Savoy. His outlook upon 
 life was entirely independent of environment. 
 
 Upon Mabel the effect of his unexpected appear- 
 ance for a few moments was dazing. The relief 
 and joy were poured upon her too abruptly to 
 beget normal response. She tried to get up from 
 her chair, but sank back to it again, a white mist 
 floating on her brain. It was just as if she had 
 been lying under sentence of death, when, with- 
 out a moment's warning, not only had all the 
 prison bars been removed, but the dismal cell 
 had been bathed in sunlight. 
 
 In spite of her desperate efforts to control her- 
 self, this sudden release of a strain which, for the 
 past year, month by month and week by week 
 and hour by hour, had been steadily wound on 
 an inexorable windlass to more rigid tensity, 
 overwhelmed her in her weakened state. With- 
 out having been able to utter a word, she broke 
 into a paroxysm of sobs. 
 
 " I'm so sorry, Andie ; I'm so sorry," she kept 
 saying, when she could speak. 
 
 " All right, old girl," said Andie. " Cry it out 
 it's the best thing and talk afterwards." He 
 looked round, and, seeing no available chair, sat 
 down on the bed. 
 
 The fit of weeping gradually subsided. Mabel 
 312
 
 The Spinster 
 
 slowly mopped her eyes, and at last she raised her 
 head. 
 
 " Where have you been all this tune, Andie ?" 
 she asked. " And why didn't you come near me, 
 or write ?" 
 
 " Haven't you guessed ?" 
 
 Mabel shook her head. 
 
 " Surely you didn't think I intended to turn on 
 you ?" 
 
 " No, I don't think I ever did, really." 
 
 " You did a little, though, I can see. I thought 
 you would easily guess how it was. Don't you 
 remember that, when I went back to Blanford, 
 I had to go and live with Hugh ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, after a time he found out that you were 
 writing to me, and he made a fearful fuss. It was 
 a sickening position to be in. I was absolutely 
 dependent on him, for the time being, and it 
 would have been a rotten thing to deceive him. 
 So the only thing to do was to stop writing while 
 I was there. I didn't think it would be long 
 before I could get something to do and go into 
 digs. It turned out to be a much longer business 
 than I expected. You've no idea what com- 
 petition there is in the law. I got absolutely 
 crazy with answering advertisements in the Law 
 Times. But it's all right now, thank goodness ! 
 Steels have taken me in." 
 
 313
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " Steels " was the firm of solicitors in Leeds to 
 whom he had been articled. 
 
 " Oh, how splendid !" exclaimed Mabel, brought 
 by this news to her first normal manifestation of 
 pleasure. The recollection of the terrible inter- 
 vening period swept like a cloud from her mind, 
 and all her old interest in his welfare was 
 awakened. " Do you mean they have taken you 
 into partnership ?" 
 
 " Well, no, not yet. They are giving me a 
 salary. But if they find out I'm any use and 
 it won't be my fault if they don't they'll have 
 to annex me in the end. There are only two 
 partners now, and the old man is getting rather 
 shaky." 
 
 He got up and felt in his pocket for his cigar- 
 ettes. Then he produced a stage shiver. " It's 
 jolly cold, Mabs. Why don't you have a fire ?" 
 
 Mabel redirected her attention to the chimney 
 cowls. " I have no coals," she said. 
 
 " Good heavens !" exclaimed Andie, startled. 
 He looked round the room, and appeared to take 
 in for the first time its manifest limitations. 
 " Of course, it's obvious that your luck has been 
 out, but do you mean that it doesn't run to it ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mabel. 
 
 " Then how do you do your cooking ?" 
 
 " I haven't had very much to cook lately," she 
 answered. 
 
 314
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " But do you mean you haven't had enough to 
 eat ?" His concern was increasing by swift leaps. 
 
 Mabel hesitated. Her voice quivered a little. 
 " I don't think, perhaps, I have just lately." 
 
 " Do you mean," asked Andie, in a much 
 louder tone, " that you are hungry now ?" 
 
 " Oh yes /" Mabel dropped her head, power- 
 less to modify the absolute confession. 
 
 Andie looked at her far more thoroughly than 
 he had done as yet. His scrutiny put emphasis 
 to her words. 
 
 " Good heavens !" he said again. " And I've 
 been wasting all this time talking ! Half a 
 second !" He dragged open the creaking door 
 and ran down the stairs. 
 
 It seemed to Mabel that he was away a very 
 long time. In reality it was only ten minutes. 
 When he returned his arms were laden with a 
 variety of eatables a loaf of bread, a pot of jam, 
 tea, sugar, cakes, butter and he was followed 
 by a man carrying a sack of coals. 
 
 " What have I forgotten ?" he said, as he 
 deposited his purchases, one by one, on the table. 
 " I'm sure to have forgotten something." 
 
 They lighted a fire and made tea. Andie pre- 
 tended to be ravenously hungry himself, and, 
 because he had heard that a famished person 
 should not be allowed to eat too quickly, he con- 
 tinued to question Mabel, to make her talk. By 
 
 315
 
 The Spinster 
 
 degrees, with many modifications, many round- 
 ings off of sharp angles, she told him the history 
 of her misfortunes. 
 
 " I always knew you had plenty of pluck," he 
 said, when she had finished. " Some women 
 would have put themselves in the river. I'm glad 
 you're not like that." 
 
 He got up and stood with his back to the fire. 
 " That sort of an appalling time has to be for- 
 gotten as soon as possible," he went on. " You've 
 got to come and housekeep for me. I've got nice 
 rooms only two at present, but there's a vacant 
 bedroom in the house, which you can have." 
 
 ' You don't really need a housekeeper," said 
 Mabel. 
 
 " Yes, I do ; I hate doing it myself. Besides, 
 it's so lonely at night." 
 
 " And, besides, your sister is stranded," said 
 Mabel. She paused for a few moments ; and 
 when she spoke again, she was viewing the 
 matter from a new angle. " But right up there, 
 after a time, I'm sure I shall be able to get 
 patients again. People can't go on remembering 
 for ever. If I can, we shall have quite a cosy 
 income between us, shan't we ? How nice it 
 
 will be ! We " Suddenly she stopped and 
 
 looked at him. " But how absurd I am ! I 
 had forgotten Kathleen." 
 
 Andie, again sitting on the bed, put his hands 
 316
 
 The Spinster 
 
 behind his head and looked into the fire. ' That's 
 all off," he said. 
 
 " Off !" exclaimed Mabel. 
 
 "All, all off !" he reiterated, slightly artificially. 
 
 " Oh, but, Andie," she asked anxiously, " are 
 you sorry ? Do you want it to be off ?" 
 
 " It doesn't matter whether I'm sorry or not : 
 off it is, so there's no more to be said." 
 
 " But you must tell me about it. Tell me 
 why ?" 
 
 " It would be much better not. Truly it 
 would, Mabs." 
 
 " We can't begin by having secrets, if we are 
 going to live together. Besides, I'm afraid I 
 guess the reason." 
 
 " That's just why I didn't want to talk about 
 it." 
 
 " You must tell me, Andie. I know it's about 
 me." 
 
 Andie was silent for a few seconds. " Of 
 course, you'll worm it out," he said reflec- 
 tively. 
 
 " Of course I shall." 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you and have done with it, if 
 you'll promise not to mention the subject after- 
 wards, or to worry about it. It's the sort of 
 thing that can't be mended by talking. We shall 
 just have to leave it alone." 
 
 " Yes, if it can't. Now, tell me." 
 317
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " It began when all that business came out in 
 the papers." 
 
 " I thought so." 
 
 " You know, Kathleen seems a quiet girl, but 
 she has pretty stiff notions, and when she gets 
 anything into her mind, she sticks to it like a 
 leech. As long as marriage seemed about a 
 million years away, it didn't so much matter. 
 Every time I saw her we argued it out, and always 
 left off exactly where we started. But when I 
 got this appointment, with a prospect of some- 
 thing better, it came to a head. I saw that we 
 had to have it out ; so, as soon as I could get off, 
 I came up to London and went to see her. That 
 was the day before yesterday, before I started to 
 look for you." 
 
 " And what happened ?" asked Mabel. 
 
 " Oh, we had rather a silly sort of scene. She 
 is very fond of set ceremonies, having things done 
 impressively you know what I mean : rather 
 the way they do them on the stage. She had it 
 all planned out. The whole family, except the 
 children, were collected in the dining-room, wait- 
 ing, and she took me in there and said I must 
 choose." 
 
 " How choose ?" 
 
 " Choose whether I would have her or have 
 you. That had been the trouble the whole time, 
 don't you see ? She said she would never speak
 
 The Spinster 
 
 to you, and never see you. So we had this solemn 
 family conclave. Mrs. McCormick seemed to 
 think a great deal of fuss was being made about 
 nothing and that's what I thought but the old 
 man looked rather grave. He said some very 
 nice things Oh, I can't go through it all !" 
 
 " What did you do ?" asked Mabel, without 
 looking at him. Tears were again forcing them- 
 selves into her eyes. 
 
 " What could I do ? I felt an absolute idiot, 
 standing in the middle of them. I simply said 
 I was awfully sorry, that everybody had been 
 most awfully kind so they have ! and then I 
 shook hands all round and went. Kathleen 
 wouldn't shake hands : she rushed out of the 
 room, and I heard her bang a door upstairs." 
 
 There was a long pause before Mabel said any- 
 thing. 
 
 " Andie, I can't accept it," she said at last. 
 " It's too big a sacrifice to make. You must 
 marry her, and I will submit to the humiliation 
 of not being known or acknowledged ; and I don't 
 mind about it, if I can see you occasionally." 
 She glanced round the room, and slowly a smile 
 broke through the tears in her eyes. " It would 
 be rather absurd to feel aggrieved because people 
 don't call on me, when I can't even offer them a 
 chair to sit on, and they have to bring their own 
 tea." 
 
 319
 
 The Spinster 
 
 " You've got to accept it, though," said Andie 
 decisively. " I can't go back now. That would 
 be rather too feeble. I've burnt my boats. 
 Remember, you promised, if I told you, not to 
 worry or talk about it." 
 
 " I promised conditionally," said Mabel, 
 think we shall talk about it a good deal." 
 
 Once more she was seated at the window, now 
 looking down into the street where she had seen 
 the woman singing. Her reflections ended in a 
 remark aloud which was illuminative of their 
 tenour : " And yet I've been rather a doubting 
 
 Thomas." 
 
 " I knew you had," said Andie, smiling, 
 glad you've had to admit it." 
 " There was a long silence. Andie was now 
 seated in the middle of the bed, smoking, his legs 
 swinging, his back leaning upon the wall, 
 had a side view of Mabel as she sat at the wmdo%y. 
 In these conditions the evidence of his sister s 
 privations appeared to be brought, for the first 
 time, completely home to him. 
 
 " Jove !" he said suddenly, " I never thought 
 you had come to this. I was only just in time." 
 
 " Only just !" said Mabel. 
 
 THE END 
 
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