d the place she desired to find, she came in blushing.

'Is Mrs. Hepburn at home?' she asked of Hester, whose position in the
shop brought her forwards to receive the customers, while Sylvia
drew Bella out of sight behind some great bales of red flannel.

'Can I see her?' the sweet, south-country voice went on, still
addressing Hester. Sylvia heard the inquiry, and came forwards, with
a little rustic awkwardness, feeling both shy and curious.

'Will yo' please walk this way, ma'am?' said she, leading her
visitor back into her own dominion of the parlour, and leaving Bella
to Hester's willing care.

'You don't know me!' said the pretty young lady, joyously. 'But I
think you knew my husband. I am Mrs. Kinraid!'

A sob of surprise rose to Sylvia's lips--she choked it down,
however, and tried to conceal any emotion she might feel, in placing
a chair for her visitor, and trying to make her feel welcome,
although, if the truth must be told, Sylvia was wondering all the
time why her visitor came, and how soon she would go.

'You knew Captain Kinraid, did you not?' said the young lady, with
innocent inquiry; to which Sylvia's lips formed the answer, 'Yes,'
but no clear sound issued therefrom.

'But I know your husband knew the captain; is he at home yet? Can I
speak to him? I do so want to see him.'

Sylvia was utterly bewildered; Mrs. Kinraid, this pretty, joyous,
prosperous little bird of a woman, Philip, Charley's wife, what
could they have in common? what could they know of each other? All
she could say in answer to Mrs. Kinraid's eager questions, and still
more eager looks, was, that her husband was from home, had been long
from home: she did not know where he was, she did not know when he
would come back.

Mrs. Kinraid's face fell a little, partly from her own real
disappointment, partly out of sympathy with the hopeless,
indifferent tone of Sylvia's replies.

'Mrs. Dawson told me he had gone away rather suddenly a year ago, but
I thought he might be come home by now. I am expecting the captain
early next month. Oh! how I should have liked to see Mr. Hepburn, and
to thank him for saving the captain's life!'

'What do yo' mean?' asked Sylvia, stirred out of all assumed
indifference. 'The captain! is that' (not 'Charley', she could not
use that familiar name to the pretty young wife before her) 'yo'r
husband?'

'Yes, you knew him, didn't you? when he used to be staying with Mr
Corney, his uncle?'

'Yes, I