Drusilla, her visit ended, returned to London with a glad heart. She took her place in the express at Shrewsbury, in a third-class compartment with three other persons in it, and settled down to her novel, on excellent terms with herself and the world. She had done her duty and might now do something pleasant--a perfect foundation for peace of mind. At Wolverhampton two of the three other passengers left, and no other coming in, Drusilla found herself sitting opposite a clean-shaven, grey-eyed young man of determined but agreeable aspect, who was reading _The British Medical Journal_. Being merely a man, and not obviously a male reformer, this creature naturally had no possible interest for Drusilla, or should not have had; but our little Drusilla, although still veneered with Purpose and Campaign and all the rest of it, was yet akin to the old Eve too; and, after all, his eyes really were very clear and direct, and his mouth was at once firm and tender, and his hands looked strong and capable and were not wholly shapeless either. There had been worse hands at the Slade, where hands were supposed to mean so much. It was easy to observe these, for they were holding up _The British Medical Journal_ before his face. Drusilla's thoughts left her novel. It is a pity that Socialists have such indifferent tailors. Why should they? Surely it is possible to be interested in the higher ideals, and also go to a good barber and keep one's knees from bagging? At any rate, every one knows that there are exceptions to every rule. No one would read _The British Medical Journal_ unless he had some kind of intellect, even if one of the papers on the seat beside him was rather violently pink. At Leamington the unexpected happened. A Japanese spaniel fell down between the train and the platform just before they stopped, and had a paw crushed by the wheel of Drusilla's carriage. She uttered a cry of anguish as she learned of the accident, and her companion leaped out and, extricating the little animal, examined the wound and comforted its owner. Drusilla loved dogs, and the incident led to conversation. He was a doctor at Thomas's. They talked all the way to London. Where and when Drusilla met her doctor again I do not know, but she lost no time in doing so on our return from Venice, and electrified the family one evening very shortly after by announcing that she was giving up art and intended to be a hospital nurse.