1
"Miss Dear to see you Miss."
"Is there anyone else in the waiting room?"
"No miss--nobody."
Miriam went in briskly.... "Well? How is the decayed gentlewoman?" she
said briskly from the doorway. She hardly looked. She had taken in the
close-fitting bonnet and chin bow and the height-giving look of the long
blue uniform cloak together with the general aspect of the heavily
shaded afternoon room....
"Oh, she's very well."
Miss Dear had stood quite still in her place half way down the room
between the sofa and the littered waiting room table. She made a small
controlled movement with her right hand as Miriam approached. Miriam
paused with her hand on a "Navy League," absorbed in the low sweet even
tone. She found herself standing reverently, pulled up a few inches from
the dark figure. Suddenly she was alight with the radiance of an
uncontrollable smile. Her downcast eyes were fixed upon a tall slender
figure in a skimpy black dress, tendrils of fine gold hair dancing in
the rough wind under a cornflower blue toque, a clear living
rose-flush.... Something making one delicate figure more than the open
width of the afternoon, the blue afternoon sea and sky. She looked up.
The shy sweet flower pink face glowed more intensely under the cap of
gold hair clasped flatly down by the blue velvet rim of the bonnet. The
eyes, now like Weymouth Bay, now like Julia Doyle's, now a clear
expressionless blue, were fixed on hers; the hesitating face was
breaking again into watchful speech. But there was no speech in the
well-remembered outlines moulding the ominous cloak. Miriam flung out to
stem the voice, rushing into phrases to open the way to the hall and the
front door. Miss Dear stood smiling and laughing her little smothered
obsequious laugh, just as she had done at Bognor, making one feel like a
man.
"Well--I'm most frightfully busy," wound up Miriam cheerfully turning to
the door. "That's London--isn't it? One never has a minute."
Miss Dear did not move. "I came to thank you for the concert tickets,"
she said in the even thoughtful voice that dispersed one's thoughts.
"Oh yes. Was it any good?"
"I enjoyed it immensely," said Miss Dear gravely. "So did Sister North,"
she added, shaking out the words in delicate laughter.
... _I_ don't know 'Sister _North_.' ... "Oh, good," said Miriam opening
the door.
"It was most kind of you to send them. I'm going to a case to-morrow,
but I shall hope to see you when I come back."
"Sister North sported a swell new blouse" said Miss Dear in clear
intimate tones as she paused in the hall to take up her umbrella.
"I hope it won't rain," said Miriam formally, opening the front door.
"She was no _end_ of a swell" pursued Miss Dear, hitching her cloak and
skirt from her heels with a neat cuffed gloved hand, quirked compactly
against her person just under her waist and turned so that her elbow and
forearm made a small compact angle against her person. She spoke over
her shoulder, her form slenderly poised forward to descend the steps; "I
told her she would knock them." She was aglow with the afternoon
sunlight streaming down the street.
Miriam spoke as she stepped down with delicate plunges. She did not hear
and paused turning on the last step.
"It was too _bad_ of you" shouted Miriam smiling "to leave my sister
alone at the Decayed Gentlewomen's."
"I couldn't help myself," gleamed Miss Dear. "My time was up."
"Did you _hate_ being there?"
Miss Dear hung, poised and swaying to some inner breeze. Miriam gazed,
waiting for her words, watching the in-turned eyes control the sweet
lips flowering for speech.
"It was rather comical"--the eyes came round, clear pure blue;--"until
your sister came." The tall slender figure faced the length of the
street; the long thin blue cloak flickering all over gave Miriam a
foresight of the coming swift hesitating conversational progress of the
figure along the pavement, the poise of the delicate surmounting head,
slightly bent, the pure brow foremost, shading the lowered thoughtful
eyes, the clear little rounded dip of the chin indrawn.
"I'm glad she gave me your address," finished Miss Dear a little furrow
running along her brow in control of the dimpling flushed oval below it.
"I'll say au revoir and not good bye for the present."
"Good bye," flung Miriam stiffly at the departing face. Shutting the
neglected door she hurried back through the hall and resumed her
consciousness of Wimpole Street with angry, eager swiftness.... Eve,
getting mixed up with people ... it is right ... _she_ would not have
been angry if I had asked her to be nice to somebody.... I did not mean
to do anything ... I was proud of having the tickets to send ... if I
had not sent them I should have had the thought of all those nurses,
longing for something to do between cases. They are just the people for
the Students Concerts ... if she comes again.... "I can't have social
life, unfortunately," how furious I shall feel saying that "you see I'm
so fearfully full up--lectures every night and I'm away every week end
... and I'm not supposed to see people here----"