No More Learning

Hauksbee, lifting her head from the lump of crushed gum and calico
atrocities on Mrs. Delville's shoulder and hurrying to the Doctor.

Mrs. Delville picked up her shawl, and slouched out of the room, mopping
her eyes with the glove that she had not put on.

"I always said she was more than a woman," sobbed Mrs. Hauksbee,
hysterically, "and that proves it! "

* * * * *

Six weeks later, Mrs. Bent and Dora had returned to the hotel. Mrs.
Hauksbee had come out of the Valley of Humiliation, had ceased to
reproach herself for her collapse in an hour of need, and was even
beginning to direct the affairs of the world as before.

"So nobody died, and everything went off as it should, and I kissed The
Dowd, Polly. I feel so old. Does it show in my face? "

"Kisses don't as a rule, do they? Of course you know what the result of
The Dowd's providential arrival has been.
"

"They ought to build her a statue--only no sculptor dare copy those
skirts. "

"Ah! " said Mrs. Mallowe, quietly. "She has found another reward. The
Dancing Master has been smirking through Simla giving every one to
understand that she came because of her undying love for him--for
him--to save his child, and all Simla naturally believes this. "

"But Mrs. Bent"--

"Mrs. Bent believes it more than any one else. She won't speak to The
Dowd now. Isn't The Dancing Master an angel? "

Mrs. Hauksbee lifted up her voice and raged till bedtime. The doors of
the two rooms stood open.

"Polly," said a voice from the darkness, "what did that
American-heiress-globe-trotter-girl say last season when she was tipped
out of her 'rickshaw turning a corner? Some absurd adjective that made
the man who picked her up explode.