This afternoon I met Lady Kynnersley again--at the Ellertons'. I was
talking to Maisie, who has grown no happier, when I saw her sailing
across to me with questions hoisted in her eyes. Being particularly
desirous not to report progress periodically to Lady Kynnersley, I made
a desperate move. I went forward and greeted her.
"Lady Kynnersley," said I, "somebody was telling me that you are in
urgent need of funds for something. With my usual wooden-headedness I
have forgotten what it is--but I know it is a deserving organisation."
The philanthropist, as I hoped, ousted the mother. She exclaimed at
once:
"It must have been the Cabmen and Omnibus Drivers' Rheumatic Hospital."
"That was it!" said I, hearing of the institution for the first time.
"They are martyrs to rheumatic gout, and of course have no means of
obtaining proper treatment; so we have secured a site at Harrogate and
are building a comfortable place, half hospital, half hotel, where they
can be put up for a shilling a day and have all the benefits of the
waters just as if they were staying at the Hotel Majestic.
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