e boys would make their bow in the streets, and say `Good-morning,
Lord Blandamer.' You'll hear stories enough about him, and it was a
bitter thing for his poor sister to bear, to see her brother a butt and
laughing-stock, all the time that he was frittering away her savings.
But it's all over now, and Martin's gone where they don't wear nebuly
coats."

"There was nothing in his fancies, I suppose?" Westray asked.

"You must put that to wiser folk than me," said the organist lightly;
"ask the Rector, or the doctor, or some really clever man."

He had fallen back into his sneering tone, but there was something in
his words that recalled a previous doubt, and led Westray to wonder
whether Mr Sharnall had not lived so long with the Joliffes as to have
become himself infected with Martin's delusions.

His companion was pouring out more brandy, and the architect wished him
good-night.

Mr Westray's apartment was on the floor above, and he went at once to
his bedroom; for he was very tired with his journey, and with standing
so long in the church during the afternoon. He was pleased to find that
his portmanteau had been unpacked, and that his clothes were carefully
arranged in the drawers. This was a luxury to which he was little
accustomed; there was, moreover, a fire to fling cheerful flickerings on
spotlessly white curtains and bedlinen.

Miss Joliffe and Anastasia had between them carried the portmanteau up
the great well-staircase of stone, which ran from top to bottom of the
house. It was a task of some difficulty, and there were frequent pauses
to take breath, and settings-down of the portmanteau to rest aching
arms. But they got it up at last, and when the straps were undone Miss
Euphemia dismissed her niece.

"No, my dear," she said; "let _me_ set the things in order. It is not
seemly that a young girl should arrange men's clothes. There was a time
when I should not have liked to do so myself, but now I am so old it
does not very much matter."

She gave a glance at the mirror as she spoke, adjusted a little bit of
grizzled hair which had strayed from under her cap, and tried to arrange
the bow of ribbon round her neck so that the frayed part should be as
far as possible concealed. Anastasia Joliffe thought, as she left the
room, that there were fewer wrinkles and a sweeter look than usual in
the old face, and wondered that her aunt had never married. Youth
looking at an old maid traces spinsterhood