but I'm afraid I can't.
Your aunt is so brave and plucky that probably she said nothing to you
in her last letter about how ill she has been, but she's just had a
very bad bout, and at one time we were afraid that we were going to
lose her. You can imagine how anxious we all were. But she is better
again now, although very much shattered. The Chapel is closed. There's
a piece of news for you! It never recovered from poor Warlock's death;
he was the spirit that gave it life, and although he may have had his
dreams and imaginations that deceived him, there was some life in that
building that I have never found anywhere else and shall never find
again. You remember that Amy Warlock married that scamp Thurston. Well,
she has left him and has come back to live with her mother. She had a
rather bad experience, I'm afraid, poor woman, but she says nothing to
any one about it. She and the old lady have moved from this part of
London and have gone to live somewhere in Kensington. Some one saw
Martin Warlock in Paris the other day. I hear that he has been very
seriously ill and is greatly changed, looking years older. I can say,
now that you are happily married, that I am greatly relieved that you
were not engaged to him. You won't think this presumptuous of a man old
enough to be your father, will you? I am sure he had many good things
in him, but he was very weak and not fitted to look after you. But he
had a good heart, I'm sure, and his father's death was a great shock to
him. Thurston, I hear, is having revival meetings up and down the
country. Miss Avies, I believe, is with him. You remember Miss
Pyncheon? She and many other regular attendants at the Chapel have left
this neighbourhood. The Chapel is to be a cinematograph theatre, I
believe. There! I have given you all the gossip. I have not said more
about your aunts because I want you to come up one day to London, when
you have time, and see them. You will do that, won't you? I expect you
are very busy--I hope you are. I would like to have a line from you,
but please don't bother if you have too much to do.

Always your friend,

WILLIAM MAGNUS.

When Maggie saw Martin's name the other writing on the page transformed
itself suddenly into a strange pattern of webs and squares.
Nevertheless she pursued her way through this, but without her own
agency, as though some outside person were reading to her and she was
not listening.

She repeated the last words "Always your