"I see, but even I can tell you that."
"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Rooth; " but he says he can help us."
"Keep hold of him then, if he's in the business."
"He's a perfect gentleman," said Mrs. Rooth. "He's immensely struck with Miriam."
"Better and better. Keep hold of him."
"Well, I'm glad you don't object," Mrs. Rooth smiled.
"Why should I object?"
"You don't consider us as all your own?"
"My own? Why, I regard you as the public's—the world's."
Mrs. Rooth gave a little shudder. "There's a sort of chill in that. It's grand, but it's cold. However, I needn't hesitate then to tell you that it's with Mr. Dashwood that Miriam has gone out."
"Why hesitate, gracious heaven?" But in the next breath Sherringham asked: "Where has she gone?"
"You don't like it!" laughed Mrs. Rooth.
"Why should it be a thing to be enthusiastic about?"
"Well, he's charming, and I trust him."
"So do I," said Sherringham.
"They've gone to see Madame Carré."
"She has come back then?"
"She was expected back last week. Miriam wants to show her how she has improved."
"And has she improved?"
"How can I tell—with my mother's heart?" asked Mrs. Rooth. "I don't judge; I only wait and pray. But Mr. Dashwood thinks she's wonderful."
"That's a blessing. And when did he turn up?"
