visages, repaired to the Cottage on
visits of condolence, to emerge half an hour or so later, considerably
shocked and bewildered. They were prepared to mourn with a widow for
the loss her husband; with a householder for the loss of income, with a
mother whose daughter was neglected by her lover--they beheld instead a
complacent personage in weeds, shedding a dutiful tear for "Papa," and
hastily whisking it away at the remembrance of "many blessings."

"So much to be thankful for! Mary home, and so useful. Taken up her
old duties, and dear little Trissie so happy! The Captain, _devoted_.
His house to be done up, regardless of expense. The marriage in August.
Quiet of course, but white. Just," the widow declared with a sigh, "as
Papa had planned!"

On the subject of finance the good lady was equally complacent. "There
had been losses... poor Papa had been ill-advised, but if income were to
be reduced, so, most appropriately, would be expenses also. No one but
Mary and myself to think of. Between you and me," said Mrs Mallison to
each visitor in turn, "I believe we shall feel quite rich!"

Grizel Beverley delivered a spirited account of her own interview with
the widow for the benefit of Cassandra on her first subsequent visit to
the Court. She thought it probable that rumour had already carried the
announcement of the marriage, but preferred to make sure of this in
indirect fashion, rather than by an open question.

"Oh, she is a wonderful woman, is Mrs Mallison," she quoted
mischievously. "The Vicar says she is bearing up wonderfully, _I_ say
she is having the time of her life. Notices in the paper, references in
church, flocks of callers, everyone talking about her,--what could she
wish for more? She looks so imposing, too, in her bombazines. Have you
the slightest idea what bombazines are? Neither have I, but you may
take my word for it--she's got 'em! Poor Papa is quite a useful
stalking horse, and has a tear dropped to his memory, before she enters
upon the _real_ subject of interest."

"I know," Cassandra said quietly, "Teresa's marriage. It's arranged for
August, I hear. I knew it must be. Teresa's not the sort of girl to
live on her sister's income, and Dane couldn't,--after all this time, he
couldn't let her turn out to work!" She sat silent for a few minutes,
her eyes gazing sightlessly over the terraced gardens. "So at long
last, this is the end, Grizel!"

"And at long last--are you