of Bailey.
The sight of Kirk restored her. After all, what had happened was only
what she had expected. She had chosen her path, and she did not regret
it.
Two events of importance in the small world which centred round William
B. Winfield occurred at about this time. The first was the entrance of
Mamie, the second the exit of Mrs. Porter.
Mamie was the last of a series of nurses who came and went in somewhat
rapid succession during the early years of the White Hope's life. She
was introduced by Steve, who, it seemed, had known her since she was a
child. She was the nineteen-year-old daughter of a compositor on one of
the morning papers, a little, mouselike thing, with tiny hands and
feet, a soft voice, and eyes that took up far more than their fair
share of her face.
She had had no professional experience as a nursery-maid; but, as Steve
pointed out, the fact that, in the absence of her mother, who had died
some years previously, she had had sole charge of three small brothers
at the age when small brothers are least easily handled, and had
steered them through to the office-boy age without mishap, put her
extremely high in the class of gifted amateurs. Mamie was accordingly
given a trial, and survived it triumphantly. William Bannister, that
discerning youth, took to her at once. Kirk liked the neat way she
moved about the studio, his heart being still sore at the performance
of one of her predecessors, who had upset and put a substantial foot
through his masterpiece, that same 'Ariadne in Naxos' which Lora Delane
Porter had criticised on the occasion of her first visit to the studio.
Ruth, for her part, was delighted with Mamie.
As for Steve, though as an outside member of the firm he cannot be
considered to count, he had long ago made up his mind about her. Some
time before, when he had found it impossible for him to be in her
presence, still less to converse with her, without experiencing a warm,
clammy, shooting sensation and a feeling of general weakness similar to
that which follows a well-directed blow at the solar plexus, he had
come to the conclusion that he must be in love. The furious jealousy
which assailed him on seeing her embraced by and embracing a stout
person old enough to be her father convinced him of this.
The discovery that the stout man actually was her father's brother
relieved his mind to a certain extent, but the episode left him shaken.
He made up his mind to propose at once and get it over. When Mamie
joined the garrison of No. 90 a year later the dashing feat was still
unperformed. There was that about Mamie which unmanned Steve. She was
so small and dainty that the ruggedness which had once been his pride
seemed to him, when he thought of her, an insuperable defect. The
conviction that he was a roughneck deepened in him and tied his tongue.
The defection of Mrs. Porter was a gradual affair. From a very early
period in the new regime she had been dissatisfied. Accustomed to rule,
she found herself in an unexpectedly minor position. She had definite
views on the hygienic upbringing of children, and these she imparted to
Ruth, who listened pleasantly, smiled, and ignored them.
