Julius had just been at poor Mrs. Fuller's, trying to help her to put her complicated affairs in order, so as to be ready for a move as soon as one daughter, who had the fever slightly, could be taken away, and he was driving home again, when he overtook Mrs. Duncombe and offered her a lift, for her step was weary. She was indeed altered, pale, with cheek-bones showing, and all the lustre and sparkle gone out of her, while her hat was as rigidly dowdy as Miss Slater's. She roused herself to ask feebly after the remaining patients. "Cecil is really getting better at last," he said. "Her father wants to take her to Portishead next week." "And young Bowater?" "No change. His strength seems to be going." "I wouldn't pity him," sighed Bessie Duncombe; "he has only seen the best end of life, and has laid it down for something worth! I'm sure he and your brother are the enviable ones." "Nay, Mrs. Duncombe, you have much to work for and love in this life." "And I must go away from everything just as I had learnt to value it. Bob has taken a house at Monaco, and writes to me to bring the children to join him there!" "At Monaco?" "At Monaco! Yes, and I know that it is all my own fault. I might have done anything with him if I had known how. But what could you expect? I never saw my mother; I never knew a home; I was bred up at a French school, where if one was not a Roman Catholic there was not a shred of religion going. I married after my first ball. Nobody taught me anything; but I could not help having brains, so I read and caught the tone of the day, and made my own line, while he went on his." "And now there is a greater work for you to do, since you have learnt to do it." "Ah! learnt too late. When habits are confirmed, and home station forfeited--What is there left for him or my poor boys to do?" "A colony perhaps--" "Damaged goods," she said, smiling sadly. "Then are you going?" "As soon as I have seen this fever out, and can dispose of the things here. I have just been to Moy's office to see about getting rid of the lease." "Is Mr. Moy come home?" "Yes. Have you not heard?" "What?--Not the fever?" "No. Worse I should say. Gussie has gone off and got married to Harry Simmonds." "The man at the training stables?" "Yes. They put up their banns at the Union at Brighton, and were married by the Registrar, then went off to Paris. They say it will kill her mother. The man is a scoundrel, who played Bob false, and won largely by that mare. And the girl has had the cheek to write to me," said Mrs. Duncombe, warming into her old phraseology--"to _me_!--to thank me for opportunities of meeting, and to tell me she has followed up the teaching of last year." "What--the rights of women?"