f she lived much out of doors.

"How d'ye do?" she repeated "I'm Joanna."

Miss Bunce rose, and going discreetly to the window, pretended to
gaze into the street. Joanna, as she knew, was the name of the old
ladies' only step-sister, who had eloped from home twenty years
before, and (it was whispered) had disgraced the family. As for the
Misses Lefanu, being unused to rise without help, they spread out
their hands as if stretching octaves on the edge of the table, and
feebly stared.

"Joanna," began the elder, tremulously, "if you have come to ask
charity--"

"Bless your heart, no! What put that into your head?" She advanced
and took the chair which Miss Bunce had left, and resting her elbows
on the table, regarded her sisters steadily. "What a preposterous
age you both must be, to be sure! My husband's waiting for me
outside."

"Your husband?" Miss Charlotte quavered.

"Why, of course. Did you suppose, because I ran away to act, that I
wasn't an honest woman?" She stretched out her left hand; and there
was a thin gold ring on her third finger. "He isn't much of an
actor, poor dear. In fact, not to put too fine a point on it, he has
been hissed off two-and-thirty stages in Great Britain alone.
Indeed, he's the very worst actor I ever saw, although I don't tell
him. But as a husband he's sublime."

"Are there--" Miss Charlotte began, and broke down. "Are there," she
tried again, "are there--any--children?"

"Ah, my dear, if there were, I might be tempted to repent."

"Don't you?" jerked out Miss Bunce, turning abruptly from the window.
There was a certain sharp emotion in the question, but her face was
in the shadow. Joanna regarded her for a moment or two and broke
into a laugh.

"My dears, I have been an actress and a mother. I retain the pride
of both,--though my little one died at three months, and no manager
will engage me now, because I refuse to act unless my husband has a
part. Theoretically, he is the first of artists; in practice--
You were asking, however, if I repent. Well, having touched the two
chief prizes within a woman's grasp, I hardly see how it is likely.
I perceive that the object of my visit has been misinterpreted.
To be frank, I came to gloat over you."

"Your step-sisters are at least respectable," Miss Bunce answered.

"Let us grant that to be a merit," retorted Joanna: "Do I understand
you to claim the credit of it?"

"They are very clean, though," she went o