"Very well," she then said. "I shall dress and go to see him. Would you like me to get a nurse to assist you?"
"If I might venture, madam," said the man discreetly, "it would be better perhaps to hear first what Doctor Carfew says. He may wish a nurse of his own."
"Yes. That is true. Tell Parkson to call me a cab in half an hour."
She put on a dark-blue linen frock and a little toque of black straw.
"Give me my long grey veil, Tilda," she said. As the girl was winding it about her hat, she asked:
"Haven't you a friend who's a Catholic, Tilda?"
"Yes, m'm—Maria Tonks. A very good girl, though a Papist, m'm."
"And what did you say was the name of the priest who converted her?"
"Father Raphael of the Poor, m'm. But he didn't convert her exactly, m'm, if I may say so. She just took such a fancy to 'im, his bein' so kind to her w'en in distress, m'm—as she went and became a Catholic."
"I see. He is very good to the poor, isn't he?"