duty to make you the judge whether you choose to sail about with that
little cub--Rosa, I can beat about the bush no longer. Is it a fit thing
that a man of genius, at whose feet we ought all to be sitting with
reverence, should drive a cab in the public streets? Yes, Rosa Staines,
your husband drives his brougham out at night, not to visit any other
lady, as that anonymous wretch told you, but to make a few misewable
shillings for you."

"Oh, Christie!"

"It is no use, Dr. Staines; I must and will tell her. My dear, he drove
ME three nights ago. He had a cabman's badge on his poor arm. If you
knew what I suffered in those five minutes! Indeed it seems cruel to
speak of it--but I could not keep it from Rosa, and the reason I muster
courage to say it before you, sir, it is because I know she has other
friends who keep you out of their consultations; and, after all, it is
the world that ought to blush, and not you."

Her ladyship's kindly bosom heaved, and she wanted to cry; so she took
her handkerchief out of her pocket without the least hurry, and
pressed it delicately to her eyes, and did cry quietly, but without any
disguise, like a brave lady, who neither cried nor did anything else she
was ashamed to be seen at.

As for Rosa, she sat sobbing round Christopher's neck, and kissed him
with all her soul.

"Dear me!" said Christopher. "You are both very kind. But, begging your
pardon, it is much ado about nothing."