been one of her chief pleasures. And to disguise
the true cause she made pretences which were a satire upon her state of mind -
alleging that she had devoted herself to a serious course of studies, that the
care of house and child occupied all the time she could spare from her
intellectual pursuits. The worst of it was, she had little faith in the efficacy
of these fictions; in uttering them she felt an unpleasant warmth upon her
cheeks, and it was not difficult to detect a look of doubt in the eyes of the
listener. She grew angry with herself for being dishonest, and with her husband
for making such dishonesty needful.
    The female friend with whom she had most trouble was Mrs Carter. You
remember that on the occasion of Reardon's first meeting with his future wife,
at the Grosvenor Gallery, there were present his friend Carter and a young lady
who was shortly to bear the name of that spirited young man. The Carters had now
been married about a year; they lived in Bayswater, and saw much of a certain
world which imitates on a lower plane the amusements and affectations of society
proper. Mr Carter was still secretary to the hospital where Reardon had once
earned his twenty shillings a week, but by voyaging in the seas of charitable
enterprise he had come upon supplementary sources of income; for instance, he
held the post of secretary to the Barclay Trust, a charity whose moderate funds
were largely devoted to the support of gentlemen engaged in administering it.
This young man, with his air of pleasing vivacity, had early ingratiated himself
with the kind of people who were likely to be of use to him; he had his reward
in the shape of offices which are only procured through private influence. His
wife was a good-natured, lively, and rather clever girl; she had a genuine
regard for Amy, and much respect for Reardon. Her ambition was to form a circle
of distinctly intellectual acquaintances, and she was constantly inviting the
Reardons to her house; a real live novelist is not easily drawn into the world
where Mrs Carter had her being, and it annoyed her that all attempts to secure
Amy and her husband for five o'clock teas and small parties had of late failed.
    On the afternoon when Reardon had visited a second-hand bookseller with a
view of raising money - he was again shut up in his study, dolorously at work -
Amy was disturbed by the sound of a visitor's rat-tat; the little servant went
to the door, and returned followed by Mrs Carter.
    Under the best of circumstances it was