"I'm afraid my husband is dying," answered Cora simply. She thought it better not to mention divorce to a person who seemed like the very genius of the family. "Why, you poor child," said the other, "you don't look old enough to have a husband." "I'm twenty-four," replied Cora. "It's almost three years since I was married." "Of course," said the other. "It's just because I'm getting old that everyone seems so young to me." She smiled and Cora found herself smiling too. There was something comforting in the presence of the older woman; Cora felt assured that she knew her way about in all simple human crises like birth and illness and death. Suddenly as they talked Cora saw the face of her companion stiffen; Thorpe was ushering in another woman, sleek headed, with a skin like white satin, wrapped in a mink cloak. Evidently the newcomer was painfully known to Cora's friend, though the mink-clad lady gave no sign. She sat down, holding the blank beauty of her face unruffled by the least expression; and as she did so Doctor Creighton entered. "Mrs. Bing," he said. All three women rose. The doctor glanced at a paper held in the palm of his hand. "Mrs. Johnson-Bing, Mrs. Moore-Bing, Mrs. Enderby-Bing." Even in her wild eagerness to know what the doctor had to tell them of Valentine's condition Cora was aware of the excitement of at last seeing those two others. Phrases that Valentine had used about them came back to her: "A cold-hearted unfaithful Juno"--she in the mink coat. "She was so relentlessly domestic"--Cora glanced at her new friend. Yes, she was domestic--almost motherly. Cora's friendly feeling toward her remained intact; but toward Hermione--Mrs. Moore-Bing--who had so deceived and embittered Valentine, her hatred flamed as it had flamed when Valentine first told her the story. How could she stand there, so calm, drooping her thick white eyelids and moving her shoulders about in a way that made you aware that under the mink coat they were as white as blanc mange. "She must know," Cora thought, "that I know everything there is to know about her. Valentine had no reserves about it. And Margaret, from whom she took him; and Thorpe, whose testimony in the divorce case--" Instinctively she took a step nearer to Margaret, as if wishing to form an alliance against Hermione. Meantime the doctor was speaking rapidly, apologetically: "You must forgive me, ladies. I might have arranged this better, but time is short. You must help me. Mr. Bing's condition is serious--very serious. He keeps demanding that his wife come and nurse him. He believes we are keeping her from him. His temperature is going up, he is exciting himself more and more. We must give him what he wants, but--" The doctor paused and looked inquiringly from one to the other. Mrs. Johnson-Bing smiled her quiet maternal smile. "Poor Valentine," she said; "he was always like that when he was ill." There was a pause.