to be a virtue
when it ceases to be of any use. The Governor is beginning to
remember me, and the inevitable recognition--with _his_ quickness of
perception--is likely to be a matter of minutes now." She turned to me.
"In more ways than one, sir, women are hardly used by Nature. As they
advance in years they lose more in personal appearance than the men do.
You are white-haired, and (pray excuse me) you are too fat; and (allow
me to take another liberty) you stoop at the shoulders--but you have not
entirely lost your good looks. _I_ am no longer recognizable. Allow me
to prompt you, as they say on the stage. I am Mrs. Tenbruggen."

As a man of the world, I ought to have been capable of concealing my
astonishment and dismay. She struck me dumb.

Mrs. Tenbruggen in the town! The one woman whose appearance Mr.
Gracedieu had dreaded, and justly dreaded, stood before me--free, as a
friend of his kinswoman, to enter his house, at the very time when he
was a helpless man, guarded by watchers at his bedside. My first clear
idea was to get away from both the women, and consider what was to be
done next. I bowed--and begged to be excused--and said I was in a hurry,
all in a breath.

Hearing this, the best of genial old maids was unable to restrain her
curiosity. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Too confused to think of an excuse, I said I was going to the farm.

"To see my dear Euneece?" Miss Jillgall burst out. "Oh, we will go with
you!" Mrs. Tenbruggen's politeness added immediately, "With the greatest
pleasure."

CHAPTER XLVII. THE JOURNEY TO THE FARM.

My first ungrateful impulse was to get rid of the two cumbersome ladies
who had offered to be my companions. It was needless to call upon my
invention for an excuse; the truth, as I gladly perceived, would serve
my purpose. I had only to tell them that I had arranged to walk to the
farm.

Lean, wiry, and impetuous, Miss Jillgall received my excuse with
the sincerest approval of it, as a new idea. "Nothing could be more
agreeable to me," she declared; "I have been a wonderful walker all my
life." She turned to her friend. "We will go with him, my dear, won't
we?"

Mrs. Tenbruggen's reception of this proposal inspired me with hope; she
asked how far it was to the farm. "Five miles!" she repeated. "And five
miles back again, unless the farmer lends us a cart. My dear Selina, you
might as well ask me to walk to the North Pole. You have got rid of one
of us, Mr. G