s of affectionate condolence and sympathetic inquiry
were despatched daily. Though he did not actually write with his own
hand, he composed and dictated, and every epistle had to be submitted to
him before it was sent--while each and all conveyed the emphatic
declaration that, the very moment he was fit to travel, General Boldero
would fly to his dear girl's side, to give her the benefit of his
counsel and experience.

He had been for his first walk on the day Leonore's letter arrived which
changed the face of everything.

Thereafter his influenza and all the other influenzas assumed
astonishing proportions, and the trip to Liverpool which he had formerly
assured Sue would do him all the good in the world, was not to be
thought of. The weather was milder, but what of that? She had been
against his going all along; and now when he had given in to her, she
must needs wheel about face, and try to drive him to do what would send
him back to bed again as sure as fate.

Sue had next suggested that she herself, or Maud should go. Sybil, the
last to be attacked, was still in the doctor's hands.

The second proposition, however, met with no better fate than the first.
It was madness to think of it; sheer madness to take a long,
expensive--the speaker caught himself up and substituted
"exhaustive"--journey, when there was no end to be attained thereby.
Had he not said that Leo could come to them? Since she was coming, and
since it appeared there was nothing to prevent her coming immediately,
that settled the matter.

"You can put it civilly," conceded he; but on this occasion he sent no
message, and did not ask to see the letter.

We perceive therefore how it chanced that the solitary, pitiful little
figure came to be haunting the precincts of her former home as narrated
above; she had been housed by friends who, struck by her desolation,
were not wanting in pity and sympathy,--but confused, dazed, bewildered,
she moved about as in a dream, her one conscious desire to be alone--and
no one, she thought, would follow her on the present occasion.

No one did, but we know the sight that met her eyes on opening the
drawing-room door, and she knew in a moment who and what the two men
were, and what they were doing. And she fled down the garden path and
passed from their view; but ere she reappears, we will present our
readers with a brief glimpse of our heroine up to the present crisis in
her life.

In appearance she was smal