e Aunt
Dolly, and you will have forgotten her quite."

"You must not look at the matter in that desponding way," said Gowan,
quite unsteadily. "We must hope for the best, and do what we can. You
may rely upon me to exert myself to the utmost. If we succeed in
finding Donne I am sure that he will do the rest. Perhaps, next summer
Vagabondia will be as bright as ever,--nay, even brighter than it has
been before."

All his sympathies were enlisted, and, hopeless as the task seemed, he
had determined to make strenuous efforts to trace this lost lover. Men
had concealed themselves from their friends, in the world of London,
often before, and this, he felt sure, Griffith Donne was doing; and
since this poor little impassioned, much-tried Dolly was dying in spite
of herself for Griffith Donne's sake, and seemed only to be saved by his
presence, he must even set himself the task of bringing him to light and
clearing up this miserable misunderstanding. Having been Dolly Crewe's
lover, he was still generous enough to wish to prove himself her friend;
yes, and even her luckier lover's friend, though he winced a trifle at
the thought. Accordingly, he left the house that night with his mind
full of half-formed plans, both feasible and otherwise.

During the remainder of that week he did not call at Bloomsbury Place
again, but at the beginning of the next he made his appearance, bringing
with him a piece of news which excited Aimee terribly.

"I know I shall startle you," he said, the moment they were alone
together, "but you can scarcely be more startled than I was myself. I
have been on the lookout constantly, but I did not expect to be rewarded
by success so soon. Indeed, as it is, it has been entirely a matter of
chance. It is as I felt sure it would be. Donne is in London still.
I know that much, though that is all I have learned as yet. Late last
night I caught a glimpse--only a glimpse--of him hurrying through a
by-street. I almost fancied he had seen me and was determined to get out
of the way."

"The pretty English girl," said the guests at the inn, "comes down no
longer to the _table d'hote!_" "The pretty English girl," remarked the
wiseacres, "does not even drive out on these days, and the doctor calls
every morning to see her."

"And sometimes," added one of the wisest, "again in the evening."

"Consumption," observed another.

"Plainly consumption," nodding significantly. "These English frauleins
are so often c