interested to hear that I had a sister, and asked
innumerable questions about her. Was she young and lovely, or was she
getting on? Did she live all by herself, and was I going to stay with
her for long? Was not Kensington--was that the name of the
street?--rather out of the world? etc.

I was pleased with the interest he took in any particulars about myself
and my relations. People so seldom care to hear about the concerns of
others. Indeed, I have noticed, as I advance in life, such a general
want of interest on the part of my acquaintance in the minutiae of my
personal affairs that of late I have almost ceased to speak of them at
any length. Carr, however, who was of what I should call a truly
domestic turn of character, showed such genuine pleasure in hearing
about myself and my relations, that I asked him to call in London in
order to make Jane's acquaintance, and accordingly gave him her address,
which he took down at once in his note-book with evident satisfaction.

Our passage was long, but it proved most uneventful; and except for an
occasional dance, and the theatricals before-mentioned, it would have
been dull in the extreme. The theatricals certainly were a great
success, mainly owing to the splendid acting of young Carr, who became
afterwards a more special object of favor even than he was before. It
was bitterly cold when we landed early in January at Southampton, and my
native land seemed to have retired from view behind a thick veil of fog.
We had a wretched journey up to London, packed as tight as sardines in a
tin, much to the disgust of Carr, who accompanied me to town, and who,
with his usual thoughtfulness, had in vain endeavored to keep the
carriage to ourselves, by liberal tips to guards and porters. When we at
last arrived in London he insisted on getting me a cab and seeing my
luggage onto it, before he looked after his own at all. It was only when
I had given the cabman my sister's address that he finally took his
leave, and disappeared among the throng of people who were jostling each
other near the luggage-vans.

Curiously enough, when I arrived at my destination an odd thing
happened. I got out at the green door of 23, Suburban Residences, and
when the maid opened it, walked straight past her into the drawing-room.

"Well, Jane!" I cried.

A pale middle-aged woman rose as I came in, and I stood aghast. It was
not my sister. It was soon explained. She was a little pettish about it,
poor