"Where did you learn all this?"
"Just now, on the Mall. Dr. Howlen told me. The Manager of the hotel is abusing the Bents, and the Bents are abusing the Manager. They are a feckless couple."
"Well. What's on your mind?"
"This; and I know it's a grave thing to ask. Would you seriously object to my bringing the child over here, with its mother?"
"On the most strict understanding that we see nothing of The Dancing Master."
"He will be only too glad to stay away. Polly, you're an angel. The woman really is at her wit's end."
"And you know nothing about her, care less, and would hold her up to public scorn if it gave you a minute's amusement. Therefore you risk your life for the sake of her brat. No, Loo, I'm not the angel. I shall keep to my rooms and avoid her. But do as you please—only tell me why you do it."
Mrs. Hauksbee's eyes softened; she looked out of the window and back into Mrs. Mallowe's face.
"I don't know," said Mrs. Hauksbee simply.
"You dear!"
"Polly! And for aught you knew you might have taken my fringe off. Never do that again without warning. Now we'll get the rooms ready. I don't suppose I shall be allowed to circulate in society for a month."
"And I also. Thank goodness, I shall at last get all the sleep I want."
Much to Mrs. Bent's surprise she and the baby were brought over to the house almost before she knew where she was. Bent was devoutly and undisguisedly thankful, for he was afraid of the infection and also hoped that a few weeks in the hotel alone with Mrs. Delville might lead to some sort of explanation.
Mrs. Bent had cast her jealousy to the winds in her fear for her child's life.
"We can give you good milk," said Mrs. Hauksbee to
