Margaret French was one of
those beings in whom, for our salvation, this halting, hurried world of
ours is still on the whole rich. She was unmarried, thirty-five, and
poor. She lived with her brother, a struggling doctor, and she had come
across Kitty in the first months of Kitty's married life, on some
fashionable Soldiers' Aid Committee, where Margaret had done the work
and Kitty with the other great ladies had reaped the fame. Kitty had
developed a fancy for her, and presently could not live without her. But
Margaret, though it soon became evident that she had taken Kitty and, in
due time, the child--Ashe, too, for the matter of that--deep into her
generous heart, preserved a charming measure in the friendship offered
her. She would owe Kitty nothing, either socially or financially. When
Kitty's smart friends appeared, she vanished. Nobody in her own world
ever heard her mention the name of Lady Kitty Ashe, largely as that name
was beginning to figure in the gossip of the day. But there were few
things concerning the Hill Street menage that Lady Tranmore could not
safely and rightly discuss with her; and even Ashe himself went to her
for counsel.
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