To W. W. K....

In the autumn of 1903 I used to dine frequently in a restaurant in the Rue de Clichy, Paris. Here were, among others, two waitresses that attracted my attention. One was a beautiful, pale young girl, ...

Those two girls, Constance and Sophia Baines, paid no heed to the manifold interest of their situation, of which, indeed, they had never been conscious. They were, for example, established almost prec...

Those two girls, Constance and Sophia Baines, paid no heed to the manifold interest of their situation, of which, indeed, they had never been conscious. They were, for example, established almost prec...

The two girls came up the unlighted stone staircase which led from Maggie’s cave to the door of the parlour. Sophia, foremost, was carrying a large tray, and Constance a small one. Constance, who had ...

The day sanctioned by custom in the Five Towns for the making of pastry is Saturday. But Mrs. Baines made her pastry on Friday, because Saturday afternoon was, of course, a busy time in the shop. It i...

“Sophia, will you come and see the elephant? Do come!” Constance entered the drawing room with this request on her eager lips. “No,” said Sophia, with a touch of condescension. “I’m far too busy for e...

“Exquisite, 1s. 11d.” These singular signs were being painted in shiny black on an unrectangular parallelogram of white cardboard by Constance one evening in the parlour. She was seated, with her left...

The uneasiness of Mrs. Baines flowed and ebbed, during the next three months, influenced by Sophia’s moods. There were days when Sophia was the old Sophia⁠—the forbidding, difficult, waspish, and even...

It was during the month of June that Aunt Harriet came over from Axe to spend a few days with her little sister, Mrs. Baines. The railway between Axe and the Five Towns had not yet been opened; but ev...

“Well,” said Mr. Povey, rising from the rocking chair that in a previous age had been John Baines’s, “I’ve got to make a start some time, so I may as well begin now!” And he went from the parlour into...

“Well,” said Mr. Povey, rising from the rocking chair that in a previous age had been John Baines’s, “I’ve got to make a start some time, so I may as well begin now!” And he went from the parlour into...

Mr. Povey was playing a hymn tune on the harmonium, it having been decided that no one should go to chapel. Constance, in mourning, with a white apron over her dress, sat on a hassock in front of the ...

Constance stood at the large, many-paned window in the parlour. She was stouter. Although always plump, her figure had been comely, with a neat, well-marked waist. But now the shapeliness had gone; th...

“Now, Master Cyril,” Amy protested, “will you leave that fire alone? It’s not you that can mend my fires.” A boy of nine, great and heavy for his years, with a full face and very short hair, bent over...

One night⁠—it was late in the afternoon of the same year, about six months after the tragedy of the florin⁠—Samuel Povey was wakened up by a hand on his shoulder and a voice that whispered: “Father!” ...

Constance, alone in the parlour, stood expectant by the set tea-table. She was not wearing weeds; her mother and she, on the death of her father, had talked of the various disadvantages of weeds; her ...

In the summer of that year the occurrence of a white rash of posters on hoardings and on certain houses and shops, was symptomatic of organic change in the town. The posters were iterations of a myste...

In the year 1893 there was a new and strange man living at No. 4, St. Luke’s Square. Many people remarked on the phenomenon. Very few of his like had ever been seen in Bursley before. One of the strik...

Her soberly rich dress had a countrified air, as she waited, ready for the streets, in the bedroom of the London hotel on the afternoon of the first of July, 1866; but there was nothing of the provinc...

Her soberly rich dress had a countrified air, as she waited, ready for the streets, in the bedroom of the London hotel on the afternoon of the first of July, 1866; but there was nothing of the provinc...

They had been to Versailles and had dined there. A tram had sufficed to take them out; but for the return, Gerald, who had been drinking champagne, would not be content with less than a carriage. Furt...

She went to sleep in misery. All the glory of her new life had been eclipsed. But when she woke up, a few hours later, in the large, velvety stateliness of the bedroom for which Gerald was paying so f...

For a time there existed in the minds of both Gerald and Sophia the remarkable notion that twelve thousand pounds represented the infinity of wealth, that this sum possessed special magical properties...

Then she was lying in bed in a small room, obscure because it was heavily curtained; the light came through the inner pair of curtains of ecru lace, with a beautiful soft silvery quality. A man was st...

Madame Foucault came into Sophia’s room one afternoon with a peculiar guilty expression on her large face, and she held her peignoir close to her exuberant body in folds consciously majestic, as thoug...

Sophia lay awake one night in the room lately quitted by Carlier. That silent negation of individuality had come and gone, and left scarcely any record of himself either in his room or in the memories...

Matthew Peel-Swynnerton sat in the long dining room of the Pension Frensham, Rue Lord Byron, Paris; and he looked out of place there. It was an apartment about thirty feet in length, and of the width ...

Matthew Peel-Swynnerton sat in the long dining room of the Pension Frensham, Rue Lord Byron, Paris; and he looked out of place there. It was an apartment about thirty feet in length, and of the width ...

Soon after dinner one day in the following spring, Mr. Critchlow knocked at Constance’s door. She was seated in the rocking chair in front of the fire in the parlour. She wore a large “rough” apron, a...

Sophia wore list slippers in the morning. It was a habit which she had formed in the Rue Lord Byron⁠—by accident rather than with an intention to utilize list slippers for the effective supervision of...

The kitchen steps were as steep, dark, and difficult as ever. Up those steps Sophia Scales, nine years older than when she had failed to persuade Constance to leave the Square, was carrying a large ba...

When, on a June afternoon about twelve months later, Lily Holl walked into Mrs. Povey’s drawing room overlooking the Square, she found a calm, somewhat optimistic old lady⁠—older than her years⁠—which...