"

So I went up the big staircase to a part of the Castle that I did not
remember, wondering who "the others" might be. Almost could I have sworn
that the shade of Savage accompanied me up those stairs; I could feel
him at my side.

Presently a door was thrown open and I was ushered into a room
somewhat dimly lit and full of the scent of flowers. By the fire near a
tea-table, stood a lady clad in some dark dress with the light glinting
on her rich-hued hair. She turned and I saw that she still wore the
necklace of red stones, and beneath it on her breast a single red
flower. For this was Lady Ragnall; about that there was no doubt at all,
so little doubt indeed that I was amazed. I had expected to see a stout,
elderly woman whom I should only know by the colour of her eyes and her
voice, and perhaps certain tricks of manner. But, this was the mischief
of it, I could not perceive any change, at any rate in that light.
She was just the same! Perhaps a little fuller in figure, which was an
advantage; perhaps a little more considered in her movements, perhaps a
little taller or at any rate more stately, and that was all.

These things I learned in a flash. Then with a murmured "Mr. Quatermain,
my Lady," the footman closed the door and she saw me.

Moving quickly towards me with both her hands outstretched, she
exclaimed in that honey-soft voice of hers,

"Oh! my dear friend----" stopped and added, "Why, you haven't changed a
bit."

"Fossils wear well," I replied, "but that is just what I was thinking of
you."

"Then it is very rude of you to call me a fossil when I am only
approaching that stage. Oh! I am glad to see you. I _am_ glad!" and she
gave me both the outstretched hands.

Upon my word I felt inclined to kiss her and have wondered ever since if
she would have been very angry. I am not certain that she did not divine
the inclination. At any rate after a little pause she dropped my hands
and laughed. Then she said,

"I must tell you at once. A most terrible catastrophe has happened----"

Instantly it occurred to me that she had forgotten having informed me by
letter of all the details of her husband's death. Such things chance
to people who have once lost their memory. So I tried to look as
sympathetic as I felt, sighed and waited.

"It's not so bad as all that," she said with a little shake of her head,
reading my thought as she always had the power to do from the first
moment we met. "We can talk about