ry pooh-poohed the cleverness. "I knew very little more than you
yourselves. No, it was you who were all so kind to me. I had been
feeling so lonely--as if nobody wanted me--and I shall never forget how
mother put her arms round me and cuddled me, and how safe and
comfortable I felt. It was always just like home there to me."

"And why not, I'd like to know!--Look 'ere, Mary, I'm going to ask you
something, plump and plain. 'Ave you really been happy in your
marriage, my dear, or 'ave you not? You're such a loyal little soul, I
know you'd never show it if you weren't; and sometimes I've 'ad my
doubts about you, Mary. For you and the doctor are just as different as
chalk and cheese."

"Of course I have--as happy as the day's long!" cried Mary, sensitive
as ever to a reflection on her husband. "You mustn't think anything
like that, Tilly. I couldn't imagine myself married to anyone but
Richard."

"Then that only makes it harder for you now, poor thing, pulled two
ways like, as you are," said Tilly, and trumpeted afresh. "All the
same, there isn't anything I'd stick at, Mary, to keep you here. Don't
be offended, my dear, but it doesn't matter half so much about the
doctor going as you. There's none cleverer than 'im, of course, in 'is
own line. But 'e's never fitted in properly here--I don't want to
exactly say 'e thinks 'imself too good for us; but there is something,
Mary love, and I'm not the only one who's felt it. I've known people go
on like anything about 'im behind 'is back: nothing would induce them
to have 'im and 'is haughty airs inside their doors again, etcetera."

Mary flushed. "Yes, I know, people do sometimes judge Richard very
unkindly. For at heart he's the most modest of men. It's only his
manner. And he can't help that, can he?"

"There are those who say a doctor ought to be able to, my dear.--But
never mind him. Oh, it's you I feel for, Mary, being dragged off like
this. Can't you DO anything, dear? Put your foot down?"

Mary shook her head. "It's no use. Richard is so ... well, so queer in
some ways, Tilly. Besides, you know, I don't think it would be right of
me to really pit my will against his."

"Poor little you!--Oh! men are queer fish, Mary, aren't they? Not that
I can complain; I drew a prize in the lucky-bag when I took that old
Jawkins in there. But when I look round me, or think back, and see what
we women put up with! There was poor old ma; she 'ad to be man for
both. And Jinn, Mary