fled,
Anne spoke of her being able to return to Dockforth. Whether that
would ever be seemed entirely doubtful to Alice's eyes, especially as
the patient's inclination was evidently otherwise. There was nothing to
be done but to leave the sisters together, obtaining Miss Reade's ready
promise to write, and putting into her hands a sum of money which could
be sincerely called 'only a debt of gratitude from my husband and me,'
and which would smooth the way either to remaining or returning to
England.

Nor was there any return. Ere many weeks had passed Mrs. Egremont
heard from Miss Reade how a fresh cold had made it impossible to move,
and summer heat had brought on low fever, which had destroyed the
feeble strength, but not till 'childhood's star' had again arisen, and
a deeply and truly repentant woman had passed away, saved, as it
seemed, through that one effort on behalf of the young girl whose
innocence she had protected.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE VORTEX.

'With one black shadow at her feet.'--TENNYSON.

The rebuffs that society had bestowed on his wife and daughter at Nice
had rendered Mr. Egremont the more determined on producing them in
London and establishing their position. He secured a furnished house
in Westburnia before leaving Nice, and, travelling leisurely home
without visiting Bridgefield, he took possession the second week in May.

There had not been much correspondence with the Rectory, and on the
first forenoon, as Mrs. Egremont and Nuttie were trying to enliven the
drawing-room with the flowers sent up to meet them, they were surprised
by the entrance of Blanche, full of kisses and welcomes.

'Oh! didn't you know? I'm with the Kirkaldys just round the corner.
Aunt Margaret has undertaken to do the part of a noble aunt by me.'

'Then you are here for the season? And May?'

'May wouldn't come, except just for a week to see the pictures, and lay
in a stock of talk. She's grown more parochial than ever, and we
believe it is all Hugh Condamine. Oh! I forgot you were gone before we
came home last autumn. He is mamma's nephew, you know, and was
ordained last year to the curacy of the next parish to his father's
place. If the Edwardses only would take themselves off, we would have
him at home, and then we should have flowers on the altar, and all
sorts of jolly things. Papa would stand ever so much more from him
than from the old Edwardses.'

'But is he engaged to May, then?'

'W