While Mildred wrote on the card the girl watched her--her face was
full of suspicion; and when she read the name, an involuntary 'Oh'
escaped from her, and Mildred knew that Ralph had spoken of her.
'Probably,' she thought, 'she has been his mistress. She wouldn't be
here nursing, if she hadn't been.'

'I'll give him your card.'

There was nothing for it but to lower her eyes and murmur 'thank you,'
and before she reached the end of the street her discomfort had
materially increased. She was humiliated and angry, humiliated that
that girl should have seen through her so easily, angry that Ralph
should have spoken about her to his mistress; for she was sure that
the woman was, or had been, his mistress. She regretted having asked
to see Ralph, but she had asked for an appointment, she could hardly
get out of it now.... She would have to meet that woman again, but she
wanted to see Ralph.

'Ralph, I suppose, told her the truth.'

A moment's reflection convinced Mildred that that was probably the
case, and reassured, she went to bed wondering when she would get a
letter. She might get one in the morning. She was. not disappointed;
the first letter she opened read as follows:--

MADAM,--Mr. Hoskin begs me to thank you for your kind inquiry. He is
feeling a little stronger and will be glad to see you. His best time
is in the afternoon about three o'clock. Could you make it convenient
to call about that time?