er eyes and groaned in
anguish.

It happened that Mrs. Latimer, a lady living at West Lynne, betook
herself about that time to Stalkenberg, and with her, three parts maid
and one part companion, went Afy Hallijohn. Not that Afy was admitted to
the society of Mrs. Latimer, to sit with her or dine with her, nothing
of that; but she did enjoy more privileges than most ladies' maids do,
and Afy, who was never backward at setting off her own consequence, gave
out that she was "companion." Mrs. Latimer was an easy woman, fond
of Afy, and Afy had made her own tale good to her respecting the
ill-natured reports at the time of the murder, so that Mrs. Latimer
looked upon her as one to be compassionated.

Mrs. Latimer and Mrs. Crosby, whose apartments in the hotel joined,
struck up a violent friendship, the one for the other. Ere the former
had been a week at the Ludwig, they had sworn something like eternal
sisterhood--as both had probably done for others fifty times before.

CHAPTER XXXII.

MEETING OF LADY ISABEL AND AFY.

On the evening of the day when Helena Crosby communicated her future
prospects to Lady Isabel, the latter strolled out in the twilight and
took her seat on a bench in an unfrequented part of the gardens,
where she was fond of sitting. Now it occurred that Afy, some minutes
afterwards, found herself in the same walk--and a very dull one, too,
she was thinking.

"Who's that?" quoth Afy to herself, her eyes falling upon Lady Isabel.
"Oh, it's that governess of the Crosby's. She may be known, a half a
mile off, by her grandmother's bonnet. I'll go and have a chat with
her."

Accordingly Afy, who was never troubled with bashfulness, went up and
seated herself beside Lady Isabel. "Good evening, Madame Vine," cried
she.

"Good evening," replied Lady Isabel, courteously, not having the least
idea who Afy might be.

"You don't know me, I fancy," pursued Afy, so gathering from Lady
Isabel's looks. "I am companion to Mrs. Latimer; and she is spending the
evening with Mrs. Crosby. Precious dull, this Stalkenberg."

"Do you think so?"

"It is for me. I can't speak German or French, and the upper attendants
of families here can't; most of them speak English. I'm sure I go about
like an owl, able to do nothing but stare. I was sick enough to come
here, but I'd rather be back at West Lynne, quiet as it is."

Lady Isabel had not been encouraging her companion, either by words
or manner, but the last sente