"Oh Gertrude!--how late I am!" Delia entered hurriedly, with an anxious air. "I should have been down long ago, but Weston had one of her attacks, and I have been looking after her." Weston was Delia's maid who had been her constant companion for ten years. She was a delicate nervous woman, liable to occasional onsets of mysterious pain, which terrified both herself and her mistress, and had hitherto puzzled the doctor. Gertrude received the news with a passing concern. "Better send for France, if you are worried. But I expect it will be soon over." "I don't know. It seems worse than usual. The man in Paris threatened an operation. And here we are--going up to London in a fortnight!" "Well, you need only send her to the Brownmouth hospital, or leave her here with France and a good nurse." "She has the most absurd terror of hospitals, and I certainly couldn't leave her," said Delia, with a furrowed brow. "You certainly couldn't stay behind!" Gertrude looked up pleasantly. "Of course I want to come--" said Delia slowly. "Why, darling, how could we do without you? You don't know how you're wanted. Whenever I go up town, it's the same--'When's she coming?' Of course they understood you must be here for a while--but the heart of things, the things that concern _us_--is London." "What did you hear yesterday?" asked Delia, helping herself to some very cold coffee. Nothing was ever kept warm for her, the owner of the house; everything was always kept warm for Gertrude. Yet the fact arose from no Sybaritic tendency whatever on Gertrude's part. Food, clothing, sleep--no religious ascetic could have been more sparing than she, in her demands upon them. She took them as they came--well or ill supplied; too pre-occupied to be either grateful or discontented. And what she neglected for herself, she equally neglected for other people. "What did I hear?" repeated Gertrude. "Well, of course, everything is rushing on. There is to be a raid on Parliament as soon as the session begins--and a deputation to Downing Street. A number of new plans, and devices are being discussed. And there seemed to me to be more volunteers than ever for 'special service'?" She looked up quietly and her eyes met Delia's;--in hers a steely ardour, in Delia's a certain trouble. "Well, we want some cheering up," said the girl, rather wearily. "Those two last meetings were--pretty depressing!--and so were the bye-elections."