aring," she urged.

Giles had not known up to this moment whom he was addressing, for
Griselda had only been in that house once, and she had drawn her hood
over her face.

When he heard the name, Giles made an exclamation of horror, and said:

"My lady won't see _you_! You are the last one she'd wish to look upon.
It was an evil day for my young master that _he_ ever looked on your
face!"

"Oh! you are very cruel--very hard-hearted!" Griselda said; and with a
sob turned away.

As she was leaving the door, a young voice she knew greeted her.

It was Brian Bellis'.

"Madam," he said, "I have come to tell you that Norah--poor little
Norah--is safe at my aunt's house in John Street. I took her there after
the funeral, and she is made welcome; it would melt a heart of stone to
see her. Will you come and comfort her?"

"Comfort her! I am in need of comfort myself. Yes, I will come. No one
wants me--no one cares!"

"_I_ care, madam," Brian said. "Is the gentleman dead? It is said in the
town that he is dead of his wound."

"No, no, he is alive, but dying," said Griselda. "Take me to poor
little Norah--my poor little sister! And then will you go for me to
North Parade--see, Graves, the good waiting-woman--and ask her to bring
me my possessions, for I shall never return thither; I am homeless and
helpless."

"No, madam--no," the boy said; "my aunts will receive you--I feel sure
they will."

Then they walked on silently towards John Street, and there the Miss
Hoblyns were awaiting her arrival. They had not reached the pinnacle of
their fame at this time, for it was not till the Duchess of York, in
1795, visited their establishment that they became the rage. But they
were kind-hearted women, of a superior type to the ordinary class of
mantua-maker and milliner of those times. Gentlewomen by nature, if not
by birth.

Brian, the son of their dead sister, was their idol, and they found it
hard to refuse any request he made. When the poor desolate child had
been led to their home from her father's grave, their hearts had gone
out to her, and they gave Brian leave to fetch the sister of whom he
spoke.

Great, indeed, was these good women's surprise, when, as Griselda
dropped her hood and cloak, they recognised the beautiful young lady, on
whom they had waited at Lady Betty Longueville's, and who had done such
credit to their skill in altering the white paduasoy which Lady Betty
had discarded, and which Griselda wore