If she could forgive Lisa, she could be happy with these young people and live--live in this wonderful old world, where all that was best of past ages was kept waiting for her.
When they came to London, she went at once to Morgan's to make a deposit, for she had been hard at work on her jokes as she travelled, and had received her pay.
"Your son, madam," said the clerk, "drew on his account to-day.

He said he expected remittances from you.

Is this to be put to his credit ?" "My son was in London to-day?
"He has just left the house." "Did he--he left a message for me?
A letter, perhaps ?" "No, nothing, madam." "Put the money to his credit, of course." She went out into the narrow street and wandered along to the Bank of England, staring up at the huge buildings.
He had been looking at them--he had walked on this very pavement a minute ago! That might be the smoke of his cigar, yonder! She could easily find him.

Just to look at him once; to hold his hand! He might be ill and need her; he never was well in foggy weather.
Then she remembered that Lisa was with him.

She would nurse him.
She called a cab, and, as she drove home, looked out at the crowd with a hard, smiling face.
Henry Irving that night played "Shylock," and Mr.Perry secured a box for Miss Vance.