"He's not quite so well as he was," said Jane.
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Tanqueray.
"Is anybody ill?" said Rose. She was always interested in anybody who
was ill.
"Only Hambleby," said Tanqueray.
"Who's he?" said Rose.
"The man Jinny's in love with."
Rose was shocked at this violation of the holy privacies. She looked
reprovingly at Tanqueray.
"Is your tea as you like it?" she inquired, with tact, to make it more
comfortable for Jane.
"I'm going to smoke," said Tanqueray. "Will you come to my den, Jinny,
and talk about Hambleby?"
Rose looked as if positively she couldn't believe her ears. But it was
at Jane that she looked, not at Tanqueray.
"No," said Jinny. "I don't want to talk about Hambleby. I want to talk
to your wife."
"You mustn't mind what 'e says," said Rose, when they were alone
together. "'E sometimes says things to me that make me fair jump."
"I didn't jump," said Jane, "did I?"
"No. You took it a deal better than I should have done."
It was odd, but Rose was ten times more at her ease since Tanqueray's
awful reference to Hambleby. And she seemed happier, too.
"You see," said Jane, "there wasn't much to take. Hambleby's only a man
in a book I'm writing."
"Oh--only a man in a book."
Rose looked depressed. There was a silence which even Jane found it
difficult to break. Then she had an inspiration.
"I'm supposed to be in love with him because I can't think or talk about
anything else."
"That's just like Mr. Tanqueray," said Rose.
"Only he isn't in love with the people in his books," said Jane.
"He must think a deal of 'em."
"He says he doesn't."
"Well--'e's always thinkin' when he isn't writin'."
There was trouble on Rose's face.
"Miss 'Olland--'ow many hours do _you_ sit at it?"
"Oh, it depends."
"'E's sittin' all day sometimes, and 'arf the night. And my fear is,"
said Rose, "'e'll injure 'is brain."
"It will take a good deal to injure it. It's very tough. He'll leave off
when he's tired."
"He hasn't left off for months and months."
Her trouble deepened.
"Did 'e always work that 'ard?"
"No," said Jane. "I don't think he ever did."
"Then w'y," said Rose, coming straight to her point, "is he doin' it
now?"
They looked at each other; and somehow Jane knew why he was doing it.
She wondered if Rose knew; if she suspected.
"He's doing it," she said, "because he _can_ do it. You've had a good
effect on him."
"Do you think, do you really think it's _me_!"
"I do indeed," said Jane, with immense conviction.
"And you think it doesn't hurt him?"
"No. Does him good. You should be glad when you see him writing."
"If," said Rose, "I _could_ see 'im. But I've bin settin' here thinkin'.
I lie awake sometimes at night till I'm terrified wonderin' wot's
'appenin', and whether 'is brain won't give way with 'im drivin' it. You
see, we 'ad a lodger once and 'e overworked 'is brain and 'ad to be sent
orf quick to the asylum. That's wot's frightened me."
"But I don't suppose the lodger's brain was a bit like Mr. Tanqueray's."
"That's wot I keep sayin' to myself. People's brains is different. But
there's been times when I could have taken that old book away from him
and hidden it, thinkin' that might be for his good."
"It wouldn't be for his good."
"No," said Rose, "I'm not that certain that it would. That's why I don't
do it."
She became pensive.
"Besides, it's 'is pleasure. Why, it's all the pleasure he's got."
She looked up at Jane. Her thoughts swam in her large eyes.
"It's awful, isn't it," said she, "not knowin' wot really is for
people's good?"
"I'm afraid we must trust them to know best."
"Well," said Rose, "I'll just let 'im alone. That's safest."
Jane rose.
"You mustn't worry," said she.
"I don't," said Rose. "He hates worryin'."
She looked up again into Jane's face as one beholding the calm face of
wisdom.
"You've done me good," said she.
Jane stooped and kissed her. She kissed Tanqueray's wife.
"Do you know," she said, "you are what I thought you would be."
Rose's eyes grew rounder.
"And what's that?"
"Something very sweet and nice."
Rose's face was a soft mist of smiles and blushes. "Fancy that," she
said.
"Why did you let her go away without telling me?" said Tanqueray,
half-an-hour later.
"I didn't think," said Rose. "We got talking."
"What did you talk about?"
She would not tell.