The doctor dropped a shilling into her hand, which, cased in a carefully-mended big coarse worsted glove, she held out: when she saw what she had got she bowed her head, overcome with thankfulness, and passed on.
The doctor resumed his watch, and in a little he was rewarded: Lady Louisa came in.
"If I had not promised Bell to look in again," she said, "I would not have been here. See, there's your shilling. If I worked as hard for my money as you do, I would not give it to every impostor: I don't do it, as it is."
"I don't understand," he said.
"You gave a shilling to an old woman at the door?"
"Yes: was she an impostor?"
"Rank," said Lady Louisa; and she pulled a cap from her pocket, put it on her head, drew it close round her face, which she threw into age and wrinkles with marvelous effect, and looked at the doctor, shaking her head like the pearled old woman.
"Didn't I give myself a high character?" she said, laughing.
"It was the truth," the doctor said—"nothing but the truth."
"The whole truth, and just a little more, don't you think?"