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wood fire in the drawing-room. The children wandered aimlessly about, trying to assist Mead in cleaning his silver, or begging biscuits from his wife, who maintained a postal deafness to all their requests as to the making of toffee in the schoolroom. Finally they decided to relieve the tedium by playing all the games of cards and chance which Alice could be induced to join them in; the rattle of the dice and the ghastly dissipation of cards by daylight added a last touch to the desolation of the afternoon.

Just as dusk was closing in, however, the sound of wheels on the gravel was heard; a carriage stopped at the door; there was a ring, a rustle of silk, and Mrs. Austin, beautiful, pale, in velvet and furs, and with some new, inscrutable expression in her eyes, entered the room. She had a letter in her hand, and she advanced slowly without a smile and held it towards Alice.

“I want you to do me a favour, Miss Lauder,” she said in a grave, firm voice, very different to her usual vivid hilarity of tone. “Will you please give this letter to Mr. Campbell, and say good-bye for me? We are going to England by next mail—we must catch the steamer on Thursday. It’s rather sudden—I don’t expect to see him again. You will oblige me very much by doing this for me.”