"That shop in Lincoln's Inn isn't the shop Dickens meant. It's been pulled down. It's only the site. Some people think Dickens is sentimental." "Those who think so are hyper-critical. Besides being sentimental don't prevent him being one of your very greatest men." "_You_ should appreciate him highly. If ever there was any man revealed abuses.... You ought to read our Holmes' Elsie Venner--We call it his medicated novel over at home" smiled Dr. von Heber. He was speaking low, making a separate conversation. The others were talking together. "Yes," murmured Miriam. "I must." They both smiled a wide agreement. "I've got it over at home" murmured Dr. von Heber his smile deepening forwards. You shall read it when you come. _We'll_ read it, he said smiling to himself. She tried to stay where he was, not to be distracted by her thoughts. It must be Holmes' worst book. A book written on purpose, to prove something. "Didactic" she said with helpless suddenness, "but I like Holmes' breakfast books." "You've read those?" "Yes" said Miriam wearily. He had caught something from her thoughts. She saw him looking smaller, confined to the passing English present, a passing moment in his determined Canadian life. His strong unconsidered opinions held him through it and would receive and engulf him forever when he went back. Perhaps he had not noticed her thoughts. Well I must bid you a welcome adoo she said getting up to go. "Now _where_" he smiled rising, and surrounding her with his smile, "where did you discover Artemus _Ward_?" CHAPTER IX 1 It was Mrs. Bailey coming up the top flight clearing her throat. Tapping at the door. "Ah. I thought the young lady was in. I _thought_ so." Mrs. Bailey stood approving inside the door. The sunlight streamed on to her shabby skirt. The large dusty house, the many downstair rooms, the mysterious dark-roomed vault of the basement, all upright in her upright form; hurried smeary cleansings, swift straightening of grey-sheeted beds, the strange unfailing water-system, gurgling cisterns, gushing taps and lavatory flushes, the wonder of gaslight and bedroom candles, the daily meals magically appearing and disappearing; her knowledge of the various mysteriously arriving and vanishing people, all beginning and ending in her triumphant, reassuring smile that went forward outside beyond these things, with everybody.