acinths and crocuses were
blooming in the yew-shaded garden at Stoneleigh, a little band of
mourners went down the broad graveled walk to the inclosure, where in
the narrow space between Archie's grave and the wall another grave was
made, and there in silence and in tears they buried--not Bessie--but her
mother, poor, weak, frivolous Daisy, who had succumbed to the fever and
died after a three weeks' illness.

Bessie was not dead, as the messenger boy had reported to Grey in
Florence, but the young girl from America, sick on the same floor, had
died about noon on the day of Grey's departure, and with his rather
limited knowledge of English the boy had mistaken her for Bessie. And as
her brother had arrived that morning and had sworn roundly at the
frightful bill presented to him, the boy had naturally confounded this
party with the one for whom Grey inquired, and thus had been the cause
of much needless pain and sorrow to both Jack Trevellian and Grey. Neil
had come from Naples on the morning train, very tired and worn with his
trip to Egypt, and a good deal out of sorts because of a letter received
from his mother in Naples in which she rated him soundly for his
extravagance, telling him he must economize, and that the check she sent
him--a very small one--must suffice until his return to England, where
she confidently expected him to marry Cousin Blanche before the season
was over.

"I hear," she wrote in conclusion, "that the widow of Archibald
McPherson is in Rome with her daughter, but I trust you will not allow
them to entangle you in any way. The mother will fleece you out of every
farthing you have, while the daughter--well I do not know her, so will
not say what she may do; only keep clear of them both and shun that
crafty woman as you would the plague."

With this letter in his pocket and barely enough money to defray his own
expenses for a few weeks longer, it is not to be wondered at, if Neil
was not in a very jubilant state of mind when he reached the Quirinal,
and found matters as they were--Bessie very low with the fever, of which
he had a mortal terror and her mother destitute of funds except as Grey
Jerrold had supplied them, or as she had borrowed from Mrs. Meredith,
to whom she owed twenty pounds, with no possible means of paying. All
this and more, she tearfully explained to Neil, who listened to her with
a great sinking at his heart and a feeling that he had plunged into
something dreadful, from