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It'll only shock them, and do our circulation harm." Gregory snatched up the page and handed it to the girl who sat at the typewriter in the corner. "Read that, please, Miss Mallow." The girl read without raising her eyes. "Well, is it what Mrs. Shortman says?" The girl handed it back with a blush. "It's perfect, of course, in itself, but I think Mrs. Shortman is right.
"I don't suppose she had the money," she said; "and she must have been such a nice woman then. A nice woman doesn't like to divorce " Gregory looked at her. "What, Mrs. Shortman, you too, you too among the Pharisees?" Mrs. Shortman flushed. "She wanted to save him," she said; "she must have wanted to save him." "Then you and I " But Gregory did not finish, and turned again to the window. Mrs.
"How's your neuralgia, Mrs. Shortman?" Mrs. Shortman smiled. "Awful!" Gregory turned quickly. "You feel that window, then; I'm so sorry." Mrs. Shortman shook her head. "No, but perhaps Molly does." The girl at the typewriter said: "Oh no; please, Mr. Vigil, don't shut it for me." "Truth and honour?" "Truth and honour," replied both women. And all three for a moment sat looking at the sky.
If there is one woman like that there may be dozens, and I sometimes think we waste " Gregory said dryly: "I have heard you say that before." Mrs. Shortman bit her lips. "I don't think," she said, "that I grudge my efforts or my time." Gregory went quickly up, and took her hand. "I know that oh, I know that," he said with feeling.
Gregory turned to the girl at the typewriter. "Miss Mallow, is Mrs. Shortman right? do I waste my time?" The girl at the typewriter blushed vividly, and, without looking round, said: "How can I tell, Mr. Vigil? But it does worry one." A humorous and perplexed smile passed over Gregory's lips. "Now I know I shall cure her," he said. "2 Bilcock Buildings." And he continued to look at the sky.
Not one woman in a hundred could, especially among those who live in the country and have never seen life. I'm a squire's daughter myself." "And I a parson's," said Gregory, with a smile. Mrs. Shortman looked at him reproachfully. "Joking apart, Mr. Vigil, it's touch and go with our paper as it is; we really can't afford it.
Then Mrs. Shortman said: "You see, you can't get to the root of the evil that husband of hers." Gregory turned. "Ah," he said, "that man! If she could only get rid of him! That ought to have been done long ago, before he drove her to drink like this. Why didn't she, Mrs. Shortman, why didn't she?" Mrs. Shortman raised her eyes, which had such a peculiar spiritual glow.
And as with his long, light stride he was passing to and fro, the woman at the bureau conned steadily the writing, the girl at the typewriter sat motionless with a red and jealous face. Mrs. Shortman folded the letter, placed it on the top of the bureau, and said without raising her eyes "Of course, it is very sad for the poor little girl; but surely, Mr.
"Not 'forgive," he said, "not 'forgive'!" Mrs. Shortman raised her pen. "You don't know," she said, "what a strong feeling there is. Mind, it has to go to numbers of parsonages, Mr. Vigil. Our principle has always been to be very careful. And you have been plainer than usual in stating the case. It's not as if they really could put themselves in her position; that's impossible.
Shortman had left this meeting together, and, crossing the Serpentine, struck a line over the grass. "Mrs. Shortman," said Gregory, "don't you think we're all a little mad?" He was carrying his hat in his hand, and his fine grizzled hair, rumpled in the excitement of the meeting, had not yet subsided on his head. "Yes, Mr. Vigil. I don't exactly " "We are all a little mad!
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