"Let me know the moment she comes. I want to see her very much."

Miss Pringle was the only woman friend Nora had made in the years of her
sojourn at Tunbridge Wells. They had little in common beyond the
fellow-feeling that binds those in bondage. Miss Pringle was also a
companion. Her task mistress, Mrs. Hubbard, was in Nora's opinion, about
as stolidly brainless as a woman could well be. Miss Pringle was always
lauding her kindness. But then Miss Pringle had been a companion to
various rich women for thirty years. Nora had her own ideas as to the
value of the opinions of any woman who had been in slavery for thirty
years.

Having eaten her luncheon and written her letter to her brother, she
felt glad to rest once more. How wise the doctor had been to forbid her
to go to the funeral, and how grateful she was that he had forbidden it,
was her last waking thought.




CHAPTER II


It was well on to three o'clock when Miss Pringle made her careful way
up the path that led to the late Miss Wickham's door.

"How strange it will be not to find her in her own drawing-room!" she
reflected. "I don't recall that Nora Marsh and I have ever been alone
together for two consecutive minutes in our lives. I simply couldn't
have stood it."