Certainly more cheerful: for the street and its busy traversers could be seen. The opposite fish-shop displayed its wares more plainly to this room than to the small room below. Just now, Monsieur and Madame, the fish proprietors, were enjoying a wordy war, touching some haddock that Madame had sold under cost price. He held an oyster-knife in his hand, and was laying down the law with it. She stood, in her old brown bonnet, her wrists turned back on her capacious hips, and defied his anger. Daisy had the pleasure of assisting at the quarrel, as the French say; for the tones of the disputants were loud, and partly reached her ears. "What a frightful place this is!" ejaculated Daisy. "What people! Yes, I will go to Charlotte. It is something to get away from them for a few hours, and into civilized life again." At one o'clock, the hand-bell in the passage below was rung: the signal for dinner. Daisy went down. Frank had only just come in, and was taking off his overcoat. "I have hardly a minute, Daisy," he said. "I have not seen all my patients yet." "Been hindering his time with Rosaline," thought Daisy. And she slowly and ungraciously took her place at the table. Frank, regardless of ceremony, had already begun to carve the boiled leg of mutton. "You have _generally_ finished before one o'clock," she coldly remarked, as he handed her plate to her. For Eve, good servant though she was, had no idea of remaining in the room during meals to wait upon them. "Yes, generally. But a good many people are ill: and I was hindered this morning by attending to an accident. A little boy was run over in the street." "Is he much hurt?" "Not very much. I shall get him right again soon." The dinner proceeded in silence. Frank was eating too rapidly to have leisure for anything else; Daisy's angry spirit would not permit her to talk. As she laid down her knife and fork, Frank pressed her to take some more mutton, but she curtly refused it. "I have said no once. This is luncheon; not dinner." Frank Raynor had become accustomed to hearing his wife speak to him in cold, resentful tones: but to-day they sounded especially cold. He had long ago put it down in his own mind to dissatisfaction at their blighted prospects; blighted, at least, in comparison with those they had so sanguinely entertained when wandering together side by side at Trennach and picturing the future to each other. It only made him the more patient, the more tender with her. "Mrs. Townley has written to ask me to go to her. She is back again in Westbourne Terrace. She bids me say she shall be happy to see you to dinner at seven. But I suppose you will not go." "Yes, I will go," said Frank, rapidly revolving ways and means, as regarded the exigencies of his patients. "I think I can get away for an hour or two, Daisy. Is it dress?"