allow him to dry himself by the kitchen fire.

The page retired, and after a murmured colloquy returned with the cook,
who informed the wet and muddy man that though it was not her custom to
admit strangers, she should have no particular objection to his drying
himself; the night being so damp and gloomy. Therefore the wayfarer
entered and sat down by the fire.

'The owner of this house is a very rich gentleman, no doubt?' he asked,
as he watched the meat turning on the spit.

''Tis not a gentleman, but a lady,' said the cook.

'A widow, I presume?'

'A sort of widow. Poor soul, her husband is gone abroad, and has never
been heard of for many years.'

'She sees plenty of company, no doubt, to make up for his absence?'

'No, indeed--hardly a soul. Service here is as bad as being in a
nunnery.'

In short, the wayfarer, who had at first been so coldly received,
contrived by his frank and engaging manner to draw the ladies of the
kitchen into a most confidential conversation, in which Laura's history
was minutely detailed, from the day of her husband's departure to the
present. The salient feature in all their discourse was her unflagging
devotion to his memory.

Having apparently learned all that he wanted to know--among other things
that she was at this moment, as always, alone--the traveller said he was
quite dry; and thanking the servants for their kindness, departed as he
had come. On emerging into the darkness he did not, however, go down the
avenue by which he had arrived. He simply walked round to the front
door. There he rang, and the door was opened to him by a man-servant
whom he had not seen during his sojourn at the other end of the house.

In answer to the servant's inquiry for his name, he said ceremoniously,
'Will you tell The Honourable Mrs. Northbrook that the man she nursed
many years ago, after a frightful accident, has called to thank her?'

The footman retreated, and it was rather a long time before any further
signs of attention were apparent. Then he was shown into the drawing-
room, and the door closed behind him.

On the couch was Laura, trembling and pale. She parted her lips and held
out her hands to him, but could not speak. But he did not require
speech, and in a moment they were in each other's arms.

Strange news circulated through that mansion and the neighbouring town on
the next and following days. But the world has a way of getting used to
things, and the intell