Miss Smith totters into the apartments of her dearest
friend, and falls weeping on the sofa, while Jones rushes madly into
Brown's rooms in the Temple, and, shying his best hat into the
coalscuttle, announces that there is nothing now left for him but to
drown the past in debauchery. Whereupon Brown, if he is a good fellow,
as all the Browns are, produces the whisky and hears all about it.
So in the present instance two people were informed of what had taken
place before they went to bed that night; and those two were Jim and
Doctor Mulhaus. Alice had stood where Cecil had left her, thinking,
could she confide it to Mrs. Buckley, and ask for advice. But Mrs.
Buckley had been a little cross to her that week for some reason, and
so she was afraid; and, not knowing anybody else well enough, began to
cry.
There was a noise of horses' feet just beyond the fence, and a voice
calling to her to come. It was Jim, and, drying her eyes, she went out,
and he, dismounting, put his arm round her waist and kissed her.
"Why, my beauty," he said, "who has been making you cry?"
She put her head on his shoulder and began sobbing louder than ever.
Pages:
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600