"Certainly not, but they can be kept quiet. When people go to bed late"--she stopped short, arrested by my expression, stared for a moment, and then concluded--"they naturally object to being disturbed in the morning. We breakfast at nine. This morning we were kept awake by quarrelling voices for over an hour." I bowed politely. "I am sorry. It is most disagreeable. I have had the same experience myself, but at the beginning of the night." The words jumped out. The moment I had said them I was sorry, and when I saw her poor startled face I could have cried. The slow red rose in her cheeks; we stared into each other's eyes, and both spoke at the same time. She said:-- "Oh-oh! Can you _hear_?" I said:-- "Oh, I'm sorry! I should not have said it. Forgive me! I'm tired and cross after nursing upstairs. I want to quarrel myself. I'm sorry! I'll keep the children quiet. They will soon be going home. Please always let me know if I'm a bother. I'll do everything I can!" She looked at me--a puzzled look--and mumbled cold thanks. This was a case when my apparent years were against me. If I had been Evelyn--a girl like herself--we would have clasped hands and made friends. As it was, she distrusted the elderly woman who showed an impulsiveness foreign to her years. She departed hurriedly, leaving me plunged in fresh woe. A nice person _I_ am, to blame a man for having a bad temper! I have hurt a sister woman, who has the hardest lot which any woman can have in life--a loveless home! CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. MR MAPLESTONE IS PLEASED. As a result of my suggestion, Mr Hallett has taken Mr Thorold to several concerts, and as a crowning effort actually lured him to a week-end at Brighton. That was last week; and as the day was mild and-- almost!--sunny, I suggested to the little girls that we should go holiday-making on our own account, and pay a visit to the Zoo. The proposal excited great enthusiasm, and an early lunch was ordered so that we could set forth in good time, so as to have a couple of hours with the animals before adjourning to a confectioner's for tea. I remembered my own childhood too well to suggest returning home for the meal. To drink tea out of strange cups, in a strange room, to have a practically unlimited choice of strange cakes--this is a very orgie of bliss to anything "in one figure," and when the tea is followed by a drive home in a taxi, satisfaction approaches delirium. I remembered Mr Thorold's pathetic "Make them happy!" and determined that, if it were in my power, this should be a day to be remembered.