She used to smile at my capriccios; and
once she kissed me--actually. She was an awful Sawny, though, and so
affected: I think I will write to her."
These letters brought just one lady, a Mrs. Turner, who talked to Rosa
very glibly about herself, and amused Rosa twice: at the third visit,
Rosa tried to change the conversation. Mrs. Turner instantly got up, and
went away. She could not bear the sound of the human voice, unless it
was talking about her and her affairs.
And now Staines began to feel downright uneasy. Income was going
steadily out: not a shilling coming in. The lame, the blind, and the
sick frequented his dispensary, and got his skill out of him gratis, and
sometimes a little physic, a little wine, and other things that cost him
money: but of the patients that pay, not one came to his front door.
He walked round and round his little yard, like a hyena in its cage,
waiting, waiting, waiting: and oh! how he envied the lot of those who
can hunt for work, instead of having to stay at home and wait for others
to come, whose will they cannot influence. His heart began to sicken
with hope deferred, and dim forebodings of the future; and he saw, with
grief, that his wife was getting duller and duller, and that her days
dragged more heavily, far than his own; for he could study.
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