ich is found alike in
those who have suffered and those who have watched suffering. The nose
was straight, the lips scarlet and full. You might catalogue every
feature of Oliva Cresswell and yet arrive at no satisfactory explanation
for her charm.

Not in the clear ivory pallor of complexion did her charm lie. Nor in
the trim figure with its promising lines, nor in the poise of head nor
pride of carriage, nor in the ready laughter that came to those quiet
eyes. In no one particular quality of attraction did she excel. Rather
was her charm the charm of the perfect agglomeration of all those
characteristics which men find alluring and challenging.

She raised her hand with a free unaffected gesture, and greeted the
doctor with a flashing smile.

"Well, Miss Cresswell, I haven't seen you for quite a long time."

"Two days," she said solemnly, "but I suppose doctors who know all the
secrets of nature have some very special drug to sustain them in trials
like that."

"Don't be unkind to the profession," he laughed, "and don't be
sarcastic, to one so young. By the way, I have never asked you did you
get your flat changed?"

She shook her head and frowned.

"Miss Millit says she cannot move me."

"Abominable," he said, and was annoyed. "Did you tell her about Beale?"

She nodded vigorously.

"I said to her, says I," she had a trick of mimicry and dropped easily
into the southern English accent, "'Miss Millit, are you aware that the
gentleman who lives opposite to me has been, to my knowledge,
consistently drunk for two months--ever since he came to live at
Kroomans?' 'Does he annoy you?' says she. 'Drunken people always annoy
me,' says I. 'Mr. Beale arrives home every evening in a condition which
I can only describe as deplorable.'"

"What did she say?"

The girl made a little grimace and became serious.

"She said if he did not speak to me or interfere with me or frighten me
it was none of my business, or something to that effect." She laughed
helplessly. "Really, the flat is so wonderful and so cheap that one
cannot afford to get out--you don't know how grateful I am to you,
doctor, for having got diggings here at all--Miss Millit isn't keen on
single young ladies."

She sniffed and laughed.

"Why do you laugh?" he asked.

"I was thinking how queerly you and I met."

The circumstances of their meeting had indeed been curious. She was
employed as a cashier at one of the great West End stores. He had mad