hostess were dead; a brewery
occupied its site; and the White Horse was kept by a portly Boniface,
who had been head-waiter under the extinct dynasty. But there had been
many changes in Saxonholme since my boyish days, and this was one of the
least among them.

I was shown into the best sitting-room, preceded by a smart waiter in a
white neckcloth. At a glance I took in all the bearings of the
scene--the table with its untasted dessert; the shaded lamp; the closed
curtains of red damask; the thoughtful figure in the easy chair.
Although the weather was yet warm, a fire blazed in the grate; but the
windows were open behind the crimson curtains, and the evening air stole
gently in. It was like stepping into a picture by Gerard Dow, so closed,
so glowing, so rich in color.

"Mr. Arbuthnot," said the smart waiter, flinging the door very wide
open, and lingering to see what might follow.

The lady rose slowly, bowed, waved her hand towards a chair at some
distance from her own, and resumed her seat. The waiter reluctantly
left the room.

"I had not intended, sir, to give you the trouble of coming here," said
Mademoiselle de Sainte Aulaire, using her fan as a handscreen, and
speaking in a low, and, as it seemed to me, a somewhat constrained
voice. I could not see her face, but something in the accent made my
heart leap.

"Pray do not name it, madam," I said. "It is nothing."

She bent her head, as if thanking me, and went on:--

"I have come to this place," she said, "in order to prosecute certain
inquiries which are of great importance to myself. May I ask if you are
a native of Saxonholme?"

"I am."

"Were you here in the year 18--?"

"I was."

"Will you give me leave to test your memory respecting some events that
took place about that time?"

"By all means."

Mademoiselle de Sainte Aulaire thanked me with a gesture, withdrew her
chair still farther from the radius of the lamp and the tire,
and said:--

"I must entreat your patience if I first weary you with one or two
particulars of my family history,"

"Madam, I listen."

During the brief pause that ensued, I tried vainly to distinguish
something more of her features. I could only trace the outline of a
slight and graceful figure, the contour of a very slender hand, and the
ample folds of a dark silk dress.

At length, in a low, sweet voice, she began:--

"Not to impose upon you any dull genealogical details," she said, "I
will begin by tellin