sorry for Baltic,
however.'

'The missionary! Why, George?'

'Because this suicide will be such a disappointment to him. He has been
trying to make the poor devil--beg pardon--poor wretch repent; but it
would seem that he has not been successful.'

'Did he not confess to Mr Baltic?' asked Miss Whichello, anxiously.

'I believe so; he repented that far.'

'Do you know what he told him?'

'That he had killed Jentham, and had stolen his money.'

'Did he say if he had found any papers on Jentham's body?'

'Not that I know of,' replied George, staring. 'Why! had Jentham any
particular papers in his possession?'

'Oh, I don't know; I really can't say,' answered Miss Whichello,
confusedly, and rose unsteadily to her feet. 'Mab, my dear, you will
excuse me, I am not very well; I shall go to my bedroom.'

'Let me come too, aunty.'

'No! no!' Miss Whichello waved her niece back. 'I wish to be alone,' and
she left the room abruptly, without a look at either of the young
people. They could not understand this strange behaviour. Mab,
woman-like, turned on Captain Pendle.

'It is all your fault, George, talking of murders and suicides.'

'I'm awf'ly sorry,' said the captain, penitently, 'but I thought you
would like to hear the news.'

'Not the police news, thank you,' said Mab, with dignity.

'Why not? Something to talk about, you know.'

'You have me to talk about, Captain Pendle.'

'Oh!' George sprang forward. 'Let us discuss that subject at once. You
deserve some punishment for calling me out of my name. There, wicked
one!'

'George,' very faintly, 'I--I shall not allow it! You--you should ask
permission.'

'Waste of time,' said the practical George, and slipped his arm round
her waist.

'Oh, indeed!'--indignantly--'well, I--' Here Captain Pendle punished her
again, after which Mab said that he was like all men, that he ought to
be ashamed of himself, etc., etc., etc. Then she frowned, then she
smiled, and finally became a meek and patient Grissel to the unfeigned
delight of the superior mind. So the pair forgot Mosk and his wretched
death, forgot Miss Whichello and her strange conduct, and retreated from
the world into their Arcadia--Paradise--Elysium, in which it is best
that all sensible people should leave this pair of foolish lovers.

Miss Whichello had other things to think of than this billing and
cooing. She went to her bedroom, and lay down for ten minutes or so;
then she got up again and beg