"I will spare you nothing. I tell you to your face that you are a cruel, jealous woman. Dora is much younger than you, but is being married before you, and that is rankling in your mind. And so you bully her and tax her with liking Dr Mortimer when you _know_ she likes him--ay, likes him far better than she likes the man she is marrying." "But," interrupted H. R.; "Mr Jefferson happens to be very well off, and so our dear little innocent Dora does not see her way to give him up." Miss Bird rose from her seat and walked up to where H. R. was sitting. "Do you really _know_ why Dora is marrying this young stockbroker?" she said. "Because she is tired of working in the post-office, and wants to have a good time, I suppose," replied H. R. "Oh! you suppose that! Well, I will tell you why. She is marrying him because she wishes to make your father’s position secure in the Jeffersons’ office, and, if possible, to improve it. She is deliberately marrying young Mr Jefferson with that object in view." "Then she is very silly," said H. R., scornfully. "_Silly_! Yes, she _is_ silly! But how old is she?--_nineteen_! And at nineteen aren’t many girls _very_ silly--aren’t their heads full of romantic ideas of self-sacrifice, and other nonsense! Yes, she _is_ silly! If she were your age--twenty-eight--she would be marrying Mr Jefferson for her own sake, but she is only nineteen, and so she is marrying him for her father’s sake. Now you understand!" "I simply don’t believe you," said H. R. "It matters little whether you believe me or not. I have told you the truth. I am a very much older woman than you, and it has been my recreation all my life--for want of a better--to watch the people round me and dissect their motives. Old maids are good judges of character. You yourself will find you are a better judge of character in a few years’ time than you are now." Then, with this final lash from her tongue, Miss Bird stalked out of the room, while Miss H. R. Maybury, feeling considerably crestfallen, made her way downstairs to commence her household duties. Somehow or other Dora got through this miserable day. At lunch and tea and dinner she hardly spoke a word, but she brightened up when her father got home from the office, where he had been working later than usual in order to be free the next day. He had brought an evening paper with him, and read out the latest bulletin concerning the Earl of Lingfield’s health. "So," added the ex-merchant, "our friend Dr Mortimer was not sent for merely to assist. According to this bulletin he actually performed the operation--a very perilous one, I am told." "It will make him," said Miss Bird, laying down her knitting needles. "Yes," agreed Mr Maybury, "a man possessed of his nerve and skill will be in great demand. I am sorry in one way, because it will mean that he will leave us."