g her to take some restoratives, effectually drove any inquiry
as to the cause of the sudden seizure out of the maid's head. And by
the time Mrs. Medway was better, Seton had invented a satisfactory
explanation of it all, for herself.

"You need a change, ma'am. It's too dull for anybody staying in town at
this season; and it's beginning to tell on your nerves, ma'am," was the
maid's idea.

And some little time after the strange occurrence Mrs. Medway was
persuaded to leave town for the country.

But not till she had seen in the newspapers the fatal paragraph she knew
would sooner or later be there--the announcement of the death, on board
Her Majesty's troopship _Ariadne_ a few days before reaching the Cape,
of "Major R. R. Graham," of the 113th regiment.

She "had known it," she said to herself; yet when she saw it there,
staring her in the face, she realised that she had been living in a hope
which she had not allowed to herself that the apparition might in the
end prove capable of other explanation. She would gladly have taken
refuge in the thought that it was a dream, an optical delusion fed of
her fancy incessantly brooding on her friend and on his last visit--that
her brain was in some way disarranged or disturbed--anything, anything
would have been welcome to her. But against all such was opposed the
fact that it was not herself alone who had seen Kenneth Graham that
fatal afternoon.

And now, when the worst was certain, she recognised this still more
clearly as the strongest testimony to the apparition not having been the
product of her own imagination. And old Ambrose, her sole confidant, in
his simple way agreed with her.

"If I had not seen him too, ma'am, or if I alone had seen him," he said,
furtively wiping his eyes. "But the two of us. No, it could have but
the one meaning," and he looked sadly at the open newspaper. "There's
a slight discrimpancy, ma'am," he said as he pointed to the paragraph.
"Our Major Graham's name was '_K._ R.' not '_R._ R.'"

"It is only a misprint. I noticed that," said Anne wearily. "No,
Ambrose, there can be no mistake. But I do not want any one--not _any
one_--ever to hear the story. You will promise me that, Ambrose?" and
the old man repeated the promise he had already given.

There was another "discrimpancy" which had struck Anne more forcibly,
but which she refrained from mentioning to Ambrose.

"It can mean nothing; it is no use putting it into his head," she said