Part 79 (2/2)

”Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might,” he added piously. ”If a thing's worth doing at all, it's worth doing well, I always think.”

That was his formula for the time being, but Beth judged him by his demeanour, which was gay, and not by his professions, and did not pity him. She was in excellent spirits herself, for her writing was going well; and it varied the monotony pleasantly for her to have Bertha to talk to, and walk, play, or sew with, after her work. Bertha's demonstrations of affection, too, were grateful to Beth, who had had so little love either bestowed upon her or required of her.

Bertha had been in the house three months, when one day her mother called, and found Beth alone, Dan and Bertha having gone for a drive together. Mrs. Petterick had just returned from abroad, where the whole family had been living most of the time that Bertha had been with the Maclures.

”Really,” Mrs. Petterick said, ”I don't know how to thank you for your kindness to my girl. She's quite a different person I can see by her letters, thanks to the good doctor. Before he took her in hand she was quite hysterical, and had to lie down two or three times a day, because she said she had no strength for anything. But really three months is an abuse of hospitality; and I think she should be coming home now.”

”Oh no, do let her stay a little longer if you can spare her,” Beth pleaded. ”It is so nice to have her here.”

”Well, it is good of you to say so,” said Mrs. Petterick, ”but it must be a great expense to you. We weren't well off ourselves at one time.

Mr. Petterick's a self-made man, and I know that every additional mouth makes a difference. But, however, you being proud, I won't offend you by offering money in exchange for kindness, which can't be repaid, but shan't be forgotten.”

When Mrs. Petterick had gone, Beth sat awhile staring into the fire.

She was somewhat stunned, for Dan had a.s.sured her that Bertha was a paying patient, and that, it seemed, had been a gratuitous lie. She was roused at last by Minna, the parlour-maid. ”Please, ma'am, a lady wishes to see you,” Minna said.

”Show her in,” Beth answered listlessly. But the next moment she stiffened with astonishment, for the lady who entered was Mrs. Kilroy of Ilverthorpe.

”I am afraid I have taken you by surprise,” Mrs. Kilroy began rather nervously.

”Will you sit down?” Beth said coldly. ”You cannot wonder if I am surprised to see you. This is the first visit you have paid me, although we met directly after I came to Slane some years ago. You were kind and cordial on that occasion, but the next time I saw you--at that ball--you slighted me; and after that you shunned me until I met you the other day at Mrs. Carne's, and then you seemed inclined to take me up again. I do not understand such caprices, and I do not like them.”

”It was not caprice,” Mrs. Kilroy a.s.sured her. ”I liked you very much the first time we met, and I should have called immediately; but when I asked for your address, I was told that your husband was in charge of the Lock Hospital----”

”Yes, the hospital for the diseases of women,” Beth said. ”But what difference does that make?”

”It made me jump to the hasty conclusion that you approved of the degradation of your own s.e.x,” said Angelica.

”The degradation of my own s.e.x!” said Beth bewildered. ”What is a Lock Hospital?”

Angelica explained the whole horrible apparatus for the special degradation of women.

”Now perhaps you will understand what we felt about you,” Angelica concluded--”we who are loyal to our own s.e.x, and have a sense of justice--when we thought you were content to live on the means your husband makes in such a shameful way.”

An extraordinary look of relief came into Beth's face. ”Then it was not my fault--not because I was horrid,” she exclaimed. All the slights were as nothing the moment she gathered that she had not deserved them. Angelica stared at her. But it was not in Beth's nature to think long about herself; only the full force of what she had just heard as it concerned others did not come to her for some seconds.

When it did, she was overcome. ”How could you suppose that I knew?”

she gasped at last. ”This is the first hint I have had of the loathsome business. My husband talks to me about--many things that he had better not have mentioned--but about this he has never said a word.”

”Then he must have suspected that you would disapprove,” said Mrs.

Kilroy.

”Disapprove!” Beth e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. ”The whole thing makes me sick. I ought to have been told before I married him. I never would have spoken to a man in such a position had I known. You did well to avoid me.”

”No,” said Angelica. ”I did ill, and I feel humiliated for my own want of penetration--for my hasty conclusion. It was Sir George Galbraith who first made me suspect that you knew nothing about it, and I would have come at once to make sure, but we were just leaving the neighbourhood, and we only returned yesterday. Ideala did not believe that you knew it either, and she rated us all for the way we had treated you. She has been in America ever since she met you at Mrs.

Carne's, but she is coming home next week, and has written to entreat me to ask you to meet her. Will you? Will you come and stay with me?

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