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Lady Meg was dressed in black out of regard for the dead man, and she looked worn, red-eyed and very dejected. But in coming forward to greet the major, her fine blue eyes lighted up with the fire of hope, and it was with something of her old impetuosity--quenched since the death of Maurice--that she gave him her hand and repeated her last remark.,

"Who taught it to you, sugar-sweet?" I persisted as I poured water in on the frog under his direction.,

"He had heard that I accused him of taking the devil-stick," explained Maurice, "and came here to exculpate himself.",

The major looked inquiringly at his visitor. She was a tall and stately woman, with a fair complexion, steady blue eyes and hair of a deep red shade. Although close on twenty-five years of age, she was still a spinster, as much to the annoyance of her mother--a match-making matron--she had hitherto declined the most eligible offers for her hand. Her reasons for such refusals she would not state, but Jen, from certain observations, had long since guessed the truth. Lady Meg was deeply in love with Maurice Alymer, and it was for his sake that she remained single. Whether she knew that the young man loved Isabella Dallas it is impossible to say; but at all events she showed him very plainly the drift of her desires. The very indifference of Alymer had rendered her passion more violent and persistent. What would have been the conclusion of this one-sided love it is difficult to conjecture; but the death of Maurice had brought this and all other things to an abrupt conclusion.

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"I can't help it," I gulped in my sleeve. "I did use to like Alfred Bennett. My heart almost broke when he went away. I used to be beautiful and slim, and now I feel as if my own fat ghost has come to haunt me all my life. I am so ashamed! If a woman can't cry over her own dead beauty, what can she cry over?" By this time I was really crying.,

"Fellows were in a hurry," he explained good-naturedly, as he shook hands with a grip that made her wince. "Couldn't keep you girls waiting, anyway. Hullo, Elinor, how's the artist lady? Hullo, kid, give us your paw. Don't need to ask you how you are—you look out of sight.",

"Now you are making a mystery out of a plain, common-sense question," he said, irritably. "We all know that Maurice is in love," here he raised his eyes suddenly, and looked keenly at his friend, "with Lady Meg Brance.",

"Baal! the wand of sleep! the bringer of death!"