"Dear me, how very unfortunate: a genius too. Death is indeed cruel. And here one sees so much of it, that unless one learns to steel one's heart, one becomes melancholy. Ah, it is indeed sad to see all this suffering!" (Mrs Reffold herself had quite succeeded in steeling her heart against her own invalid husband.) She then gave an account of several bad cases of consumption, not forgetting to mention two instances of suicide which had lately taken place in Petershof.
"One gentleman was a Russian," she said. "Fancy coming all the way, from Russia to this little out-of-the-world place! But people come from the uttermost ends of the earth, though of course there are many Londoners here. I suppose you are from London?"
"I am not living in London now," said Bernardine cautiously.
"But you know it, without doubt," continued Mrs. Reffold. "There are several Kensington people here. You may meet some friends: indeed in our hotel there are two or three families from Lexham Gardens."
Bernardine smiled a little viciously; looked first at Mrs. Reffold's two companions with an amused sort of indulgence, and then at the lady herself. She paused a moment, and then said:
"Have you asked all the questions you wish to ask? And, if so, may I ask one of you. Where does one get the best tea?"
Mrs. Reffold gave an inward gasp, but pointed gracefully to a small confectionery shop on the other side of the road. Mrs. Reffold did everything gracefully.
Bernardine thanked her, crossed the road, and passed into the shop.
"Now I have taught her a lesson not to interfere with me," said
Bernardine to herself. "How beautiful she is."
Mrs. Reffold and her two companions went silently on their way.
At last the silence was broken.