paid nothing for eighteen months. She has even lent them money.”
“Is it possible?” he said gravely.
“And the Irish journalist can’t pay. He is a home-ruler.”
“He is a most distinguished-looking man. Ah but she is stupid .”
“She can’t see ” said Miriam—he was interested ; even in these things. She dropped eagerly down amongst them. The whole evening and all their earlier interchange stood far off, shedding a relieving light over the dismal details and waiting to be resumed, enriched by this sudden excursion—“that when better people come she ought to alter things. It isn’t that she would think it wrong, like the doctor who felt guilty when he bought a carriage to make people believe he had patients, though of course speculation is wrong”—she felt herself moving swiftly along, her best memories with her in the cheerful ring of her voice, their quality discernible by him, a kind of reply to all he had told her—“because she believes in keeping up appearances; but she doesn’t know how to make people comfortable.” She was creating a wrong impression but with the right voice. Without Miss Scott’s suggestions, the discomforts would never have occurred to her.