have gone away whose presence made this place
endurable. Uncle, do you know when Mrs. Handsell is coming back? She
promised to write, and I have never heard a word!"

Mannering turned his head. A little rustling wind had stolen in from
seaward. Above their heads flights of sea-gulls were floating out towards
the creeks. He watched them idly until they dropped down.

"I do not think that she will come back at all," he said, quietly.
"I heard to-day that the place was to let again."

"And Sir Leslie Borrowdean?"

"I think you may take it for granted," Mannering remarked, dryly, "that
we shall see no more of him."

The girl leaned back and sighed.

"Uncle, what is it that makes you such a hermit?" she asked.

"Age, perhaps, and experience," he answered, lightly. "There are not many
people in the world, Clara, who are worth while!"

"Mrs. Handsell was worth while," she murmured.

Mannering did not reply.

"And Sir Leslie Borrowdean," she continued, "was more than just worth
while. I think that he was delightful."

"Very young ladies, and very old ones," Mannering remarked, grimly,
"generally like Borrowdean."

"And what about Mrs. Handsell?" she asked, with a spice of malice in her
tone.

"Mrs. Handsell," Mannering answered, coolly, "was a very charming woman.
Since both these people have passed out of our lives, Clara, I scarcely
see why we need discuss them."

"One must talk about something," she answered. "At least I must talk, and
you must pretend to listen. I positively cannot exist in the house by
myself any longer."

"Where is Richard?" Mannering asked.

"Gone into Norwich to dine at the barracks with some stupid men. Not that
I mind his going," she added, hastily. "I wish he'd stay away for a
month. Of course he's a very good sort, and all that, but he's deadly
monotonous. Uncle, really, as a matter of curiosity, before I get to be
an old woman I should like to see one other young man."

"Plenty on the links just now!"

"I know it. I sat out near the ninth hole all this morning. There are
some Cambridge boys who looked quite nice. One of them was really
delightful when I showed him where his ball was, but I can't consider
that an introduction, can I? Heavens, who's this?"

Behind the trim maid-servant already crossing the lawn, and within a few
yards of them, came a strange, almost tragical, figure. Her plain black
clothes and hat were powdered with dust, there were deep lines under her
eye