r none of the special advantages of a town, its more lively society,
its greater opportunities for entertainment and intellectual interests,
she was particularly insistent that she could not do without them. What
she wanted was a house with room for herself, two maids, and a couple of
visitors. Such a house is to be found in tens and hundreds everywhere.
She went round and round England in a fruitless search.

As a _pension habituee_ the whole arrangement of her life had been
taken out of her hands; even her clothes had been settled for her by one
of those octopus London firms which like to reduce their customers to
dummies; and her transit from hotel to hotel, and from English visits
back to hotels, had become a mere automatic process. She had not made a
decision for so many years that though her nieces and nephews were witty
over her vacillation, and declared that she enjoyed being a nuisance, it
was a fact that she was trying her best to be sensible and competent.
She, with no go-between, no protector, must determine which was most
important--gravel soil or southern aspect. She felt as she had felt
years ago, when she wrote her paper for Professor Amery, only ten times
more bewildered, almost delirious.

Of course, her nieces constantly talked her over, shaking their heads
and saying: "If only Aunt Etta would let us." But however weak she was,
she was firm in this: she would _not_ be helped. The outward sign of her
bewilderment was extreme crossness, particularly to Evelyn, who was
allowed to accompany her in her search, and to hear her remarks without
making any suggestions. "I will thank you to let me decide about my own
house by myself." They had examined nine houses that day, and were both
almost weeping with exhaustion.

Evelyn could not help feeling exasperated, but when Etta stumbled the
moment after from sheer nervousness, and Evelyn caught hold of her hand,
she realized from its hot trembling grasp how hard it is to come back to
life again.

Henrietta would probably never have found the right spot, if a timely
attack of rheumatism had not persuaded her to fix on Bath. When she had
settled into her house at last, she hated it. She dismissed five
servants in two months. She was so dull, no one called; Bath was so
cold. If only she could let her house and go abroad for the winter.
Happily no suitable tenant appeared, and gradually Bath grew into a
habit and she became resigned. But it was long, very long, be