that they hold in their ranks some of the most generous-hearted,
unselfish, big-souled women to exist in England to-day; and that it is
just because of that they are able to plod cheerfully on, and laugh
that indulgent, pitying little laugh, when an outraged man swells with
virtuous indignation, and waxes eloquent upon their want of womanly
attributes.

Of such as the best of these was Ethel Hayward. Among the crowd now
hurrying more or less tiredly into the open air, she might not have
been noticed. So many had white faces, dark-circled eyes,
shabby-genteel clothing, and just a commonplace fairness, that in the
throng it was difficult to discover distinguishing attributes.

One had to see her apart, and note the quick, urgent step, the
independent, lofty poise of her head, and the steadfastness of the
tired eyes, and firm, strong mouth, to feel that life had given her a
heavy burden, which only a noble soul could have supported with heroism.

As she left the portals of the General Post Office she hesitated a few
seconds as to her direction. "Should she go straight back to the
little flat in Holloway, or should she go west, and get the
drawing-paper Basil was wanting?"

Doris could easily get the drawing-paper the next day, if she chose;
and at the flat Dudley Pritchard would have arrived for the evening.
She surmised hastily that it was extremely probable Doris had made some
other engagement for herself that she would be unwilling to delay, and
that Dudley would in no wise regret her own tardy return.

The last thought caused her eyes to grow a little strained, as she