yance of any
kind, met my view, or that a heavy sea-mist had gathered, and was
falling in the guise of penetrating, if fine, rain. After parleying
with the station-master for some time, I ascertained that the station
'bus never put in an appearance in wet weather, and that I could
not get a closed fly, because the Flatsands' conveyances were all
pony-traps, and therefore hoodless. He, however, directed me towards
Balmoral, which was my Aunt's address, and told me that ten minutes'
walk would take me, and that my luggage should be sent after me, on a
truck.

After some difficulty, for the sea-fog was very thick, I discovered
Balmoral, but not my Aunt. The truculent-looking proprietor of the
house, who answered the door, condescended to inform me that my
relative "was the difficultest lady he'd ever had to do for. And that
she'd left two days a-gone." But where she had betaken herself to,
he either would not or could not tell me. "You'd best try along this
row," he said, and then slammed the door in my face. Having nothing
better to do, I followed his advice, and "tried along the row." I rang
at Osborne, Sandringham, and Windsor. I knocked at Claremont (the bell
was broken there), and walked boldly into Marlborough House, for that
royal residence in particular was devoid of all ordinary means of
heralding one's approach. I was just giving up my quest in despair,
when through the rain, which was now falling heavily, I spied a small
stucco villa standing shrinkingly back behind a row of palings, which,
in spite of their green paint, looked more like domestic fire-sticks
than anything else. The somewhat suggestive name of Frogmore was
inscribed on the small gate, and I remembered that I quite shivered as
I walked up the sloppy path, with my usual inquiry ready to hand.
This time, though, I was right, and when, a few minutes later, I was
sitting before a roaring fire, imbibing hot tea, and listening to
my Aunt's account of her latest complaint (did I tell you she was
hypochondriacal?) I felt that really and at last I was in for a
pleasant visit.

The evening proved a short one, for Aunt retired at nine, for which I
was not sorry, as by that time the atmosphere of the sitting-room was
distinctly stuffy, and neither dinner, nor the fumes of the invalid's
hot-and-strong "night-cap" improved it. Next morning I sympathised
with her on the fact that, soon after she had gone to bed, the
young lady on the drawing-room floor (for t