"
"No--I think that's wonderful anyhow," said Mrs. Arbuthnot,
forgetting facts and faintly sighing.
"Then you were reading it?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Arbuthnot, her eyes going dreamy again.
"Wouldn't it be wonderful?" murmured Mrs. Wilkins.
"Wonderful," said Mrs. Arbuthnot. Her face, which had lit up,
faded into patience again. "Very wonderful," she said. "But it's no
use wasting one's time thinking of such things."
"Oh, but it is," was Mrs. Wilkins's quick, surprising reply;
surprising because it was so much unlike the rest of her--the
characterless coat and skirt, the crumpled hat, the undecided wisp of
hair straggling out, "And just the considering of them is worth while
in itself--such a change from Hampstead--and sometimes I believe--I
really do believe--if one considers hard enough one gets things."
Mrs. Arbuthnot observed her patiently. In what category would
she, supposing she had to, put her?
"Perhaps," she said, leaning forward a little, "you will tell me
your name. If we are to be friends"--she smiled her grave smile--"as I
hope we are, we had better begin at the beginning."
"Oh yes--how kind of you. I'm Mrs. Wilkins," said Mrs. Wilkins.
"I don't expect," she added, flushing, as Mrs. Arbuthnot said nothing,
"that it conveys anything to you.
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