Mr. Earlforward saw that he must walk warily. She was a changing Elsie, a disagreeably astonishing Elsie. He did not quite know where he was with her.
As she emerged from the shop into the Steps a young woman with a young dog, stopping suddenly, addressed her in soft, apprehensive, commiserating accents:
"How is Mr. Earlforward this evening?"
"He seems to think as he's a bit better, 'm, thank you, in himself," Elsie answered brightly. She was uplifted by the mere concern in the voice, and at once felt more kindly towards her master, was indeed rather ashamed of her recent harshness to him.
Dusk had now fallen, and she could not see very clearly, but the next instant she had recognized both the woman and the dog". Quite a lady! A sort of a seal-skin coat! Gloves! Utterly different from the savage creature of the previous night. The dog, too, was different. A dog lacking yet in experience of the world, and apt to forget that a dog's business is to keep an eye on its guardian if it sets any store on a quiet and safe existence; but still well disposed towards its guardian, and apparently in no fear of her. More remorse for Elsie.
"Oh! I'm so glad!... And Mrs. Earlforward?"
"Oh, 'm! We haven't heard. We're expecting news."
"I do hope everything'll be all right. Operation—internal trouble, isn't it?"
"Yes, 'm."
"Yes. So I heard. Well, thank you. Good night. Skip—Skip!"