She kept harping on the bereavement, as though Providence, and not she herself, was the cause. "I have told her that the boy will be brought up in ease--affluence even"--the lady inclined her head--"and she is resigned." "Thank you. And when----?" "You would like to go up to London this afternoon? Well, I will myself bring the child to the railway station. Once more, as regards heredity. If the child should inherit his mother's qualities, he will be truthful and tenacious, or obstinate and perhaps rather stupid; if his father's, he will be artistic and musical, selfish, cold-hearted, conceited." "He might inherit the better qualities of both." "Ah, then he will be persevering, high-principled, a man of artistic feeling--perhaps of power,--ambitious, and desirous of distinction. I wish, madam, that he may become so perfect and admirable a young man." He rose. "I have only, I think, to receive the money which will start this poor woman on her wild-goose chase. Thank you. Ten five-pound notes. I will take care that the woman has it at once." "For your own trouble, Dr. Steele?" "My fee is three guineas. Thank you." "I shall be on the platform or in the train at a quarter before three. Please look about for an Indian ayah, who will receive the child. You are sure that there will never be any attempt made to follow and discover my name?" "As to discovery," he said, "you may rest quite easy. For my own part, my work lies in this slum of Birmingham; it is not likely that I shall ever get out of it. I am a sixpenny doctor; you are a woman of society: I shall never meet you. This little business will be forgotten to-morrow. If, in the future, by any accident I were to meet you, I should not know you. If I were to know you, I should not speak to you. Until you yourself give me leave, even if I should recognize you, I should not speak about this business." "Thank you," she said coldly. "It is not, however, likely that you will be tempted." He took up an open envelope lying on the table--it was the envelope in which the lady had brought the notes,--replaced them, and put them in his pocket. Then he opened the door for the lady, who bowed coldly, and went out. * * * * * A few days before this, the same lady, with an Indian ayah, was bending over a dying child. They sent for the nearest medical man. He came. He tried the usual things; they proved useless. The child must die. The child was dead. The child was buried.