Clementina did not suffer fools gladly. That was why, thinking Quixtus a fool, she had not been able to abide him for so many years. And that was why she could not abide the fat Chinese nurse, who showed herself to be a mass of smiling incompetence. “The way she washes the child makes me sick,” she declared. “If I see much more of her heathen idol’s grin, I’ll go mad and bite her.” So the next day Clementina, with Quixtus as a decorative adjunct, hunted up consular and other authorities and made with them the necessary arrangements for shipping her off to Shanghai, for which she secretly pined, by the next outward-bound steamer. When they got to London she would provide the child with a proper Christian nurse, who would bring her up in the fear of the Lord and in habits of tidiness; and in the meanwhile she herself would assume the responsibility of Sheila’s physical well-being. “I’m not going to have a flighty young girl,” she remarked. “I could tackle her, but you couldn’t.” “Why should I attempt to tackle her?” asked Quixtus. “You’ll be responsible for the child when she stays in Russell Square.” “Russell Square?” he echoed. “Yes. She will live partly with you and partly with me—three months with each of us, alternately. Where did you expect the child to live?” “Upon my soul,” said he, “I haven’t considered the matter. Well—well——” He walked about the vestibule, revolving this new and alarming proposition. To have a little girl of five planted in his dismal, decorous house—what in the world should he do with her? It would revolutionise his habits. Clementina watched him out of a corner of her eye. “You didn’t suppose I was going to have all the worry, did you?” “No, no,” he said hastily. “Of course not. I see I must share all responsibilities with you. Only—won’t she find living with me rather dull?” “You can keep a lot of cats and dogs and rocking-horses, and give children’s parties,” said Clementina. Sheila, who had been apparently absorbed in the mysteries of the Parisian toilet of a flaxen-haired doll which Clementina had bought for her at an extravagant price, cheerfully lifted up her face. “Auntie says that when I come to stay with you, I’m to be mistress of the house.” “Indeed?” said Quixtus. “And I’m to be a real lady and sit at the end of the table and entertain the guests.” “I suppose that settles it?” he said, with a smile. “Of course it does,” said Clementina, and she wondered whether his masculine mind would ever be in a condition to grasp the extent of the sacrifice she was making.