morning, and that for her, on Sunday afternoon, supreme virtue consisted in answering the week's letters. Then suddenly, without transition, she said to me, "It's quite a mistake about Dolcino being better. I have seen him, and he's not at all right."
"Surely his mother would know, would n't she?" I suggested.
She appeared for a moment to be counting the leaves on one of the great beeches. "As regards most matters, one can easily say what, in a given situation, my sister-in-law would do. But as regards this one, there are strange elements at work."
"Strange elements? Do you mean in the constitution of the child?"
"No, I mean in my sister-in-law's feelings."
"Elements of affection, of course; elements of anxiety. Why do you call them strange?"
She repeated my words. "Elements of affection, elements of anxiety. She is very anxious."
Miss Ambient made me vaguely uneasy; she almost frightened me, and I wished she would go and write her letters. "His father will have seen him now," I said, "and if he is not satisfied he will send for the doctor."
"The doctor ought to have been here this morning. He lives only two miles away."
I reflected that all this was very possibly only a part of the general tragedy of Miss Ambient's view of things; but I asked her why she had n't urged such a necessity upon her sister-in-law. She answered
