She was deeply grateful for her brother's condescension in writing her a
letter of two pages long, letting her into the secrets of his life. She
felt as if Mr. Hammond were ever so much nearer to her now she knew
where he was, and how he was amusing himself.
'Hammond is such a queer fellow,' wrote Maulevrier, 'the strangest
things interest him. He sits and talks to the workmen for hours; he
pokes his nose into all sorts of places--hospitals, workshops,
poverty-stricken dens--and people are always civil to him. He is what
Lesbia calls _sympatico_. Ah! what a mistake Lesbia and my grandmother
made when they rejected Hammond! What a pearl above price they threw
away! But, you see, neither my lady nor Lesbia could appreciate a gem,
unless it was richly set.'
And now Lady Maulevrier lay on her couch by the fire, waiting for James
Steadman. She had seen him several times since the day of her seizure,
but never alone. There was an idea that Steadman must necessarily talk
to her of business matters, or cause her mind to trouble itself about
business matters; so there had been a well-intentioned conspiracy in the
house to keep him out of her way; but now she was much better, and her
desire to see Steadman need no longer be thwarted.
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