as always inclined to see the humorous side of
anything, and to see that it was of less importance than appeared. She
had already laughed several times to herself at the mere thought of the
absurdity of a hostess asking one to her house and then behaving as Mary
had done. Also she saw a comic--though pathetic--side to the typewritten
letters. But it was painful, too, and she would very much rather have
avoided this visit from Mrs. Hillier. It must be embarrassing for her,
at least, and could hardly be other than disagreeable.

* * * * *

Mary came in looking very pale and rather untidy. In the excitement of
her mind and her general perturbation she had come out with two
left-handed gloves, and during the whole of her visit endeavoured to
force a left hand into a right-hand glove. It was maddening to watch
her.

Just as she started to go to see Bertha, poor Mary had gone to her
toilet-table and put what she supposed to be powder lavishly on her nose
without again looking in the glass. It was red rouge--the reddest and
brightest. Although she afterwards rubbed a little of it off, she never
saw herself in the glass again before starting. The result of this was
to give her that touch of the grotesque that is so fatal to any scene of
a serious nature but that in this case appealed to Bertha's kindness and
sympathy rather than her sense of humour.

"How are you, Mrs. Hillier? I have really hardly met you to speak to
until to-day."

"Good-morning, Mrs. Kellynch. ... It was kind of you to let me come."

Mary sat down awkwardly and began to put her left hand into the
right-hand glove. She sat near the light, and Bertha saw that she had
been covering her face with what she supposed to be powder, but what was
nothing else than carmine.

Should she tell her?

Could she let her remain in ignorance of this until afterwards? She
would find it out when she went home.

"I want to speak to you very much, Mrs. Kellynch. ... It is very
awkward, but I feel I must."

"Have some tea first," said Bertha, and while she poured it out and
passed it to Mrs. Hillier she felt she could no longer leave her in
ignorance of her appearance.

She pointed to the silver looking-glass that stood on a small table, and
said: "Mrs. Hillier, just look at that. I fancy you've put something on
your face by mistake. Do forgive me!"

Mary gave a shriek.

"Good heavens, how horrible! I must have put rouge on instead of