nt forward,
bowed, and smiled.

"Why, that is Frances Kane," they said one to another. "How good of her
to call--and this is one of Aunt Lucilla's bad days. If she will consent
to see Frances it will do her good."

Frances walked on. The avenue was considerably over a mile in length.
Presently she came to smaller gates, which were flung open. She now
found herself walking between velvety greenswards, interspersed with
beds filled with all the bright flowers of the season. Not a leaf was
out of place; not an untidy spray was to be seen anywhere; the garden
was the perfection of what money and an able gardener could achieve.

The avenue was a winding one, and a sudden bend brought Frances in full
view of a large, square, massive-looking house--a house which contained
many rooms, and was evidently of modern date. Frances mounted the steps
which led to the wide front entrance, touched an electric bell, and
waited until a footman in livery answered her summons.

"Is Mrs. Passmore at home?"

"I will inquire, madame. Will you step this way?"

Frances was shown into a cool, beautifully furnished morning-room.

"What name, madame?"

"Miss Kane, from the Firs. Please tell Mrs. Passmore that I will not
detain her long."

The man bowed, and, closing the door softly after him, withdrew.

Her long walk, and all the excitement she had gone through, made Frances
feel faint. It was past the hour for lunch at the Firs, and she had not
eaten much at the early breakfast. She was not conscious, however, of
hunger, but the delicious coolness of the room caused her to close her
eyes gratefully--gave her a queer sensation of sinking away into
nothing, and an odd desire, hardly felt before it had vanished, that
this might really be the case, and so that she might escape the hard
role of duty.

The rustling of a silk dress was heard in the passage--a quick, light
step approached--and a little lady most daintily attired, with a
charming frank face, stepped briskly into the room.

"My dear Frances, this is delightful--how well--no, though, you are not
looking exactly the thing, poor dear. So you have come to have lunch
with me; how very, very nice of you! The others are all out, and I am
quite alone."

"But I have come to see you on business, Carrie."

"After luncheon, then, dear. My head is swimming now, for I have been
worrying over Aunt Lucilla's accounts. Ah, no, alas! this is not one of
her good days. Come into the next room