to possible employers.  She could not make personal application, as she dared not leave her baby for long at a stretch.  Sometimes, her lover’s letters would not bring her the joy that they once occasioned; they affected her adversely, leaving her moody and depressed.  Conversely, when she did not hear from Melkbridge for some days, she would be cheerful and light-hearted, when she would spend glad half-hours in reading the advertisements of houses to let and deciding which would suit her when she was married to Perigal.  Sometimes, when burdened with care, she would catch sight of her reflection in the glass, to be not a little surprised at the strange, latent beauty which had come into her face.  Maternity had invested her features with a surpassing dignity and sweetness, which added to the large share of distinction with which she had originally been endowed.  At the same time, she noticed with a sigh that sorrow had sadly chastened the joyous light-heartedness which formerly found constant expression in her eyes.

Mavis had been at Mrs Gussle’s about three weeks when she made the acquaintance of one of the “theatrical” young women upstairs.  They had often met in the passage, when the girl had smiled sympathetically at Mavis.  One afternoon, when the latter was feeling unusually depressed, a knock was heard at her door.  She cried “Come in,” when the girl opened the door a few inches to say: 

“May I?”

“I didn’t know it was you,” remarked Mavis, distressed at her poverty being discovered.

“I came to ask if I could do anything for you,” said the girl.

“That’s very nice of you.  Do come in.”

The girl came in and stayed till it was time for her to commence the elaborate dressing demanded by her occupation.  Mavis made her some tea, and the girl (who was called “Lil”) prevailed upon her hostess to accept cigarettes.  If the girl had been typical of her class, Mavis would have had nothing to do with her; but although Lil made a brave show of cynicism and gay worldliness, Mavis’s keen wits perceived that these were assumed in order to conceal the girl’s secret resentment against her habit of life.  Mavis, also, saw that the girl’s natural kindliness of heart and refined instincts entitled her to a better fate than the one which now gripped her.  Lil was particularly interested in Mavis’s baby.  She asked continually about him; she sought him with her eyes when talking to Mavis, conduct that inclined the latter in her favour.

When Lil was going she asked: 

“May I come again?”

“Why not?” asked Mavis.

“I didn’t know I—­I—­So long,” cried Lil, as she glanced in the direction of the baby.

On the occasion of her next visit, which took place two afternoons later, Lil asked: 

“May I nurse your baby?” to add, as Mavis hesitated, “I promise I won’t kiss him.”

Mavis consented, greatly to Lil’s delight, who played with the baby for the rest of the afternoon.