her parent revealed to Rose Tramore。 She marvelled at its strength；
in the light of the poor lady's history： there was comedy enough in
this unquenchable flame on the part of a woman who had known such
misery。 She had drunk deep of every dishonour； but the bitter cup
had left her with a taste for lighted candles； for squeezing up
staircases and hooking herself to the human elbow。 Rose had a vision
of the future years in which this taste would grow with restored
exerciseof her mother； in a long…tailed dress； jogging on and on
and on； jogging further and further from her sins； through a century
of the 〃Morning Post〃 and down the fashionable avenue of time。 She
herself would then be very oldshe herself would be dead。 Mrs。
Tramore would cover a span of life for which such an allowance of sin
was small。 The girl could laugh indeed now at that theory of her
being dragged down。 If one thing were more present to her than
another it was the very desolation of their propriety。 As she
glanced at her companion； it sometimes seemed to her that if she had
been a bad woman she would have been worse than that。 There were
compensations for being 〃cut〃 which Mrs。 Tramore too much neglected。
The lonely old lady in Hill StreetRose thought of her that way now…
…was the one person to whom she was ready to say that she would come
to her on any terms。 She wrote this to her three times over； and she
knocked still oftener at her door。 But the old lady answered no
letters； if Rose had remained in Hill Street it would have been her
own function to answer them； and at the door； the butler； whom the
girl had known for ten years； considered her； when he told her his
mistress was not at home； quite as he might have considered a young
person who had come about a place and of whose eligibility he took a
negative view。 That was Rose's one pang； that she probably appeared
rather heartless。 Her aunt Julia had gone to Florence with Edith for
the winter； on purpose to make her appear more so； for Miss Tramore
was still the person most scandalised by her secession。 Edith and
she； doubtless； often talked over in Florence the destitution of the
aged victim in Hill Street。 Eric never came to see his sister；
because； being full both of family and of personal feeling； he
thought she really ought to have stayed with his grandmother。 If she
had had such an appurtenance all to herself she might have done what
she liked with it； but he couldn't forgive such a want of
consideration for anything of his。 There were moments when Rose
would have been ready to take her hand from the plough and insist
upon reintegration； if only the fierce voice of the old house had
allowed people to look her up。 But she read； ever so clearly； that
her grandmother had made this a question of loyalty to seventy years
of virtue。 Mrs。 Tramore's forlornness didn't prevent her drawing…
room from being a very public place； in which Rose could hear certain
words reverberate： 〃Leave her alone； it's the only way to see how
long she'll hold out。〃 The old woman's visitors were people who
didn't wish to quarrel； and the girl was conscious that if they had
not let her alonethat is if they had come to her from her
grandmothershe might perhaps not have held out。 She had no friends
quite of her own； she had not been brought up to have them； and it
would not have been easy in a house which two such persons as her
father and his mother divided between them。 Her father disapproved
of crude intimacies； and all the intimacies of youth were crude。 He
had married at five…and…twenty and could testify to such a truth。
Rose felt that she shared even Captain Jay with her grandmother； she
had seen what HE was worth。 Moreover； she had spoken to him at that
last moment in Hill Street in a way which； taken with her former
refusal； made it impossible that he should come near her again。 She
hoped he went to see his protectress： he could be a kind of
substitute and administer comfort。
It so happened； however； that the day after she threw Lady
Maresfield's invitation into the wastepaper basket she received a
visit from a certain Mrs。 Donovan； whom she had occasionally seen in
Hill Street。 She vaguely knew this lady for a busybody； but she was
in a situation which even busybodies might alleviate。 Mrs。 Donovan
was poor； but honestso scrupulously honest that she was perpetually
returning visits she had never received。 She was always clad in
weather…beaten sealskin； and had an odd air of being prepared for the
worst； which was borne out by her denying that she was Irish。 She
was of the English Donovans。
〃Dear child； won't you go out with me？〃 she asked。
Rose looked at her a moment and then rang the bell。 She spoke of
something else； without answering the question； and when the servant
came she said： 〃Please tell Mrs。 Tramore that Mrs。 Donovan has come
to see her。〃
〃Oh； that'll be delightful； only you mustn't tell your grandmother！〃
the visitor exclaimed。
〃Tell her what？〃
〃That I come to see your mamma。〃
〃You don't；〃 said Rose。
〃Sure I hoped you'd introduce me！〃 cried Mrs。 Donovan； compromising
herself in her embarrassment。
〃It's not necessary； you knew her once。〃
〃Indeed and I've known every one once；〃 the visitor confessed。
Mrs。 Tramore； when she came in； was charming and exactly right； she
greeted Mrs。 Donovan as if she had met her the week before last；
giving her daughter such a new illustration of her tact that Rose
again had the idea that it was no wonder 〃people〃 had liked her。 The
girl grudged Mrs。 Donovan so fresh a morsel as a description of her
mother at home； rejoicing that she would be inconvenienced by having
to keep the story out of Hill Street。 Her mother went away before
Mrs。 Donovan departed； and Rose was touched by guessing her reason
the thought that since even this circuitous personage had been moved
to come； the two might； if left together； invent some remedy。 Rose
waited to see what Mrs。 Donovan had in fact invented。
〃You won't come out with me then？〃
〃Come out with you？〃
〃My daughters are married。 You know I'm a lone woman。 It would be
an immense pleasure to me to have so charming a creature as yourself
to present to the world。〃
〃I go out with my mother；〃 said Rose； after a moment。
〃Yes； but sometimes when she's not inclined？〃
〃She goes everywhere she wants to go；〃 Rose continued； uttering the
biggest fib of her life and only regretting it should be wasted on
Mrs。 Donovan。
〃Ah； but do you go everywhere YOU want？〃 the lady asked sociably。
〃One goes even to places one hates。 Every one does that。〃
〃Oh； what I go through！〃 this social martyr cried。 Then she laid a
persuasive hand on the girl's arm。 〃Let me show you at a few places
first； and then we'll see。 I'll bring them all here。〃
〃I don't think I understand you；〃 replied Rose； though in Mrs。
Donovan's words she perfectly saw her own theory of the case
reflected。 For a quarter of a minute she asked herself whether she
might not； after all； do so much evil that good might come。 Mrs。
Donovan would take her out the next day； and be thankful enough to
annex such an attraction as a pretty girl。 Various consequences
would ensue and the long delay would be shortened； her mother's
drawing…room would resound with the clatter of teacups。
〃Mrs。 Bray's having some big thing next week； come with me there and
I'll show you what I mane；〃 Mrs。 Donovan pleaded。
〃I see what you mane；〃 Rose answered； brushing away her temptation
and getting up。 〃I'm much obliged to you。〃
〃You know you're wrong； my dear；〃 said her interlocutress； with angry
little eyes。
〃I'm not going to Mrs。 Bray's。〃
〃I'll get you a kyard； it'll only cost me a penny stamp。〃
〃I've got one；〃 said the girl； smiling。
〃Do you mean a penny stamp？〃 Mrs。 Donovan； especially at departure；
always observed all the forms of amity。 〃You can't do it alone； my
darling；〃 she declared。
〃Shall they call you a cab？〃 Rose asked。
〃I'll pick one up。 I choose my horse。 You know you require your
start；〃 her visitor went on。
〃Excuse my mother；〃 was Rose's only reply。
〃Don't mention it。 Come to me when you need me。 You'll find me in
the Red Book。〃
〃It's awfully kind of you。〃
Mrs。 Donovan lingered a moment on the threshold。 〃Who will you HAVE
now； my child？〃 she appealed。
〃I won't have any one！〃 Rose turned away； blushing for her。 〃She
came on speculation；〃 she said afterwards to Mrs。 Tramore。
Her mother looked at her a moment in silence。 〃You can do it if you
like； you know。〃
Rose made no direct answer to this observation； she remarked instead：
〃See what our quiet life allows us to escape。〃
〃We don't escape it。 She has been here an hour。〃
〃Once in twenty years！ We might meet her three times a day。〃
〃Oh； I'd take her with the rest！〃 sighed Mrs。 Tramore； while her
daughter recognised that what her companion wanted to do was just
what Mrs。 Donovan was doing。 Mrs。 Donovan's life was her ideal。
On a Sunday； ten days later； Rose went to see one of her old
governesses； of whom she had lost sight for some time and who had
written to her that she was in London； unoccupied and ill。 This was
just the sort of relation into which she could throw herself now with
inordinate zeal； the idea of it； however； not preventing a foretaste
of the queer expression in the excellent lady's face when she should
mention with whom she was living。 While she smiled at this picture
she threw in another joke； asking herself if Miss Hack could be held
in any degree to constitute the nucleus of a circle。 She would come
to see her； in any eventcome the more the further she was dragged
down。 Sunday was always a difficult day with the two ladiesthe
afternoons made it so apparent that they were not frequented。 Her
mother； it is true； was comprised in the habits of two or three old
gentlemenshe had for a long time avoided male friends of less than
seventywho disliked each other enough to make the room； when they
were there at once； crack with pressure。 Rose sat for a long time
with Miss Hack； doing conscientious justice to the conception that
there could be troubles in the world worse t