" "It matters not what I think," replied Wild. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. ” She took the pocket-book and looked up at him with a little impulsive movement. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side.
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