res that trouble her, "all things considered, Tom, I
wish I was You!"

The cat starts--not at his mistress's complimentary apostrophe, but at
a knock at the door, which follows close upon it. Lady Janet says,
carelessly enough, "Come in;" looks round listlessly to see who it is;
and starts, like the cat, when the door opens and discloses--Julian
Gray!

"You--or your ghost?" she exclaims.

She has noticed already that Julian is paler than usual, and that
there is something in his manner at once uneasy and subdued--highly
uncharacteristic of him at other times. He takes a seat by her side,
and kisses her hand. But--for the first time in his aunt's experience
of him--he refuses the good things on the luncheon table, and he has
nothing to say to the cat! That neglected animal takes refuge on Lady
Janet's lap. Lady Janet, with her eyes fixed expectantly on her nephew
(determining to "have it out of him" at the first opportunity), waits
to hear what he has to say for himself. Julian has no alternative but to
break the silence, and tell his story as he best may.

"I got back from the Continent last night," he began. "And I come here,
as I promised, to report myself on my return. How does your ladyship do?
How is Miss Roseberry?"

Lady Janet laid an indicative finger on the lace pelerine which
ornamented the upper part of her dress. "Here is the old lady, well,"
she answered--and pointed next to the room above them. "And there,"
she added, "is the young lady, ill. Is anything the matter with _you_,
Julian?"

"Perhaps I am a little tired after my journey. Never mind me. Is Miss
Roseberry still suffering from the shock?"

"What else should she be suffering from? I will never forgive you,
Julian, for bringing that crazy impostor into my house."

"My dear aunt, when I was the innocent means of bringing her here I had
no idea that such a person as Miss Roseberry was in existence. Nobody
laments what has happened more sincerely than I do. Have you had medical
advice?"

"I took her to the sea-side a week since by medical advice."

"Has the change of air don e her no good?"

"None whatever. If anything, the change of air has made her worse.
Sometimes she sits for hours together, as pale as death, without looking
at anything, and without uttering a word. Sometimes she brightens up,
and seems as if she was eager to say something; and then Heaven only
knows why, checks herself suddenly as if she was afraid to speak. I
c