Mrs. Steptoe was all amazement that the extensive accommodation of Sea View Terrace should be unknown anywhere in Europe. Her desire to express it seemed to expand beyond dictionaries. Her sakes--why, a many more could have sat down! She then went on to substantiate her statement, giving the names of the guests: "There was Mr. and Mrs. Hallock and family was five, staying in the apartments. And Mrs. Bridgman and her daughter was seven. And Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, and Mr. Hollings--no!--Harris, a young gentleman from town. Countin' up to ten!" Mrs. Steptoe was triumphant. Such detail would verify anything. "Well!--anyhow, there's the letter, Mrs. Steptoe, and I hope you'll get the place and do well." Miss Fossett was convinced the good woman had been lying, more or less; and so she had, but the only portion of her statement that affects this story was true enough. She had relieved her conscience about the fib that she had cooked this dinner by giving the actual names of those who had eaten it as nearly as she remembered them. Can we not sympathize with her? Are we not human? She took the letter with abasement and deep gratitude, neither altogether unconnected with a religious fog, unexplained, hanging about the memory of her lamented husband. She inquired after her brother--was looking forward to seeing him on Friday, the next visiting-day at the Hospital--understood he had asked for her to come, with a distinct implication that his nature was a neglectful one, and that she was neglected. "He has asked for you several times," said Miss Fosset. "But Mr. Taylor thought--so did I--that it would be best for him to know nothing of your husband's death till he was stronger. He puts it down to the Hospital regulations--thinks you have not been admitted. Mr. Taylor will tell him all about it before you see him." "As you and the gentleman think best, miss! And the little girl, you was a-sayin', is better?" "The little girl is a great deal better. Wait a minute, and I'll ask Dr. Ferris if he thinks you could see her." Mrs. Steptoe, who was quite able to keep her anxiety to see her niece in due subordination, dwelt upon her unwillingness to encroach on Miss Fossett's time. Who, accounting these professions honest--which they weren't--went away and met the doctor coming down. He had been a long time over his patient, she remarked. "This patient," said he, "is good company. Glad to say she's going on capitally. Temperature all but normal." "That aunt-woman's here still." Miss Fossett drops her voice to say this. "Could I take her up to see her safely, do you think?" "Can you be sure she won't talk about her conf ... about her husband, I mean?" "Ye-es! I think so, if she promises. I don't _know_." "It can't do any great harm, in any case. The child is thinking of nothing but Daddy. Five past nine--oh dear! I'm off ... oh yes!--you may try it." And off goes the doctor.