ll well she knew
its contents. The authorities had not waited for the father's inquiry,
but had wired the news.

"It was--was for me," she said, gasping out the intelligence.

The dark eyes of the elder woman questioned her sharply. "How
strange--how very strange it should have been sent on here!"

"My husband knew I was coming to make--a long call. He sent it on."

Mrs Jones sat down again before her tea-tray, and in the speaking eyes
was a dawning of suspicion--"I hope nothing is the matter?" she said.
"You will read your telegram, Mrs Macmichel?"

Mrs Macmichel thrust the envelope into the pocket of her coat, and kept
her hand upon it there. "It is from my dressmaker; she is always
bothering," she said.

"But are you sure, as you have not read it?"

"Quite sure. I always know when they come from her."

The hand which seized upon her cup again was shaking. The slice of
bread-and-butter was sodden with the tea which had been spilt on it as
she had put it so hurriedly down. "What were we talking of?" she asked.
"I--it was so interesting. Please go on."

"It was about our dear children," said Mrs Jones slowly. She looked
with a gaze of awakening distrust at her visitor. Her thoughts
evidently turned to her husband. "I will hear if Mr Jones has
returned," she said. "He would be so sorry to miss you----"

She put out her hand to the bell. Mrs Macmichel stopped her hurriedly.
"Don't ring!" she said, in the loud voice of alarm. "Please! I will
stay till Mr Jones comes back, however long he is away. I promise."

Ah, if he would only come! Only half an hour lived through of the two
hours yet! Yet, for worlds she would not be present at the meeting of
the wife and husband, who then would--know!

"I will stay, if you will let me go the very instant he comes," she
added. "If you tell me when you see him coming up the garden path, I
will run."

"He is here!" Mrs Jones said, with an air of relief. "I heard the
garden-gate; I know his step----"

Oh, not for ten worlds would Flora, who had ever shunned the sight of
pain, see that meeting! She almost flung her teacup from her. She
seized the other's hand.

"Good-bye! oh, good-bye!" she said; "I cannot possibly stay another
minute. I am so sorry! Oh, Mrs Jones, will you please remember, I am
nearly dead with sorrow--but I must go."

"She is certainly mad," said the other woman to herself. She was so
astonished that she forgot to rise from her chair, but sat looking