"Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. Why, is the question I would like answered. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. “How shall I get my luggage out of the house?. Into this new world, vivid with colour, came Spurlock, receptively. “Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly. “A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. The late afternoon, en effet. ’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now.
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