d exactly what it was--a
perching-place for rich people, who liked their own ways, and could not
be bored with hotels.

The dining-room was equally bare, costly, and effective. Its only
ornament was a Chinese Buddha, a great terra-cotta, marvellously alive,
which had been looted from some Royal tomb, and now sat serenely out of
place, looking over the dainty luncheon-table to the square outside, and
wrapt in dreams older than Christianity.

The flat was nominally lent to 'Mrs. Sarratt,' but Bridget was managing
everything, and had never felt so much in her element in her life. She
sat at the head of the table, helped Nelly, gave all the orders, and was
extraordinarily brisk and cheerful.

Nelly scarcely touched anything, and Mrs. Simpson who waited was much
concerned.

'Perhaps you'd tell Simpson anything you could fancy, Madam,' she said
anxiously in Nelly's ear, as she handed the fruit. Nelly must needs
smile when anyone spoke kindly to her. She smiled now, though very
wearily.

'Why, it's all beautiful, thank you. But I'm not hungry.'

'We'll have coffee in the drawing-room, please, Mrs. Simpson,' said
Bridget rising--a tall masterful figure, in a black silk dress, which
she kept for best occasions. 'Now Nelly, you must rest.'

Nelly let herself be put on the sofa in the drawing-room, and
Bridget--after praising the coffee, the softness of the chairs, the
beauty of the Japanese lilies, and much speculation on the value
of the Persian carpet which, she finally decided, was old and
priceless--announced that she was going for a walk.

'Why don't you come too, Nelly? Come and look at the shops. You
shouldn't mope all day long. If they do send for you to nurse George,
you won't have the strength of a cat.'

But Nelly had shrunk into herself. She said she would stay in and write
a letter to Hester Martin. Presently she was left alone. Mrs. Simpson
had cleared away, and shut all the doors between the sitting-rooms and
the kitchen. Inside the flat nothing was to be heard but the clock
ticking on the drawing-room mantelpiece. Outside, there were
intermittent noises and rattles from the traffic in the square, and
beyond that again the muffled insistent murmur which seemed to Nelly
this afternoon--in her utter loneliness--the most desolate sound she had
ever heard. The day had turned to rain and darkness, and the rapid
closing of the October afternoon prophesied winter. Nelly could not
rouse herself to write the let