ied Mr. Lincarrol, and after a
few more words they both retired to bed.

CHAPTER 34

FIVE YEARS LATER

Five years have elapsed since we last saw Helen. Let us choose a
favourable moment to view our heroine after the lengthy interval.

Seated in a large and wealthily furnished drawing room by a bright fire,
writing at a neat little table, sits Helen, now no longer Helen Winston
but Mrs. Lincarrol. The clock has just struck 4. and the shades of the
December evening are fast drawing in. By the light of the fire however
we can get a tolerably good view of Helen. She has altered but little
during the five years of her married life. She looks a trifle older, but
the change is so slight as to be scarcely perceptible. She has still
the luxurious black hair and long lashes shading her soft eyes.

She is clothed in a rich tea-gown of a delicate green. She is writing
diligently and seems intent on her work but she occasionally looks up to
address a word or two to a delicate looking little girl of about three
years who is playing on the hearth with a little fox terrier. This is
little Nellie, the only child, a pale-faced fair-haired little thing,
who has attained her third year today.

At length it grows too dark to see, so closing her blotter with a snap,
Helen walks to the window and holding aside the heavy velvit curtain
gazes out accross the frost-bitten garden and the roofs of the houses,
which are dotted about the town of B----.

"Dear me" she says "it is beginning to snow, I think dear" she adds
turning to her child "it is time you went up to the nursery tea will be
ready I expect."

So saying she rings a bell and Marshland appears, looking very different
to when we last saw her, in her black dress and clean cap and apron.
Having stuck to Helen in the hour of trial she now finds herself the
much-respected nurse of little Nellie.

Nellie having departed to the upper regions, Helen once more resumes her
writing, this time by the aid of a large standing lamp. By and bye a
servent enters with some tea. "Is Mr. Lincarrol in yet?" enquires Helen.
"No m'am I think not" replies the servent. "oh then I shant expect him
till late" answers Helen and so saying she partakes of her tea alone,
which done she goes to the piano and plays a few merry sonatas. At
length the clock strikes seven, and Helen is about to go and dress for
dinner, when the butler enters with the message that a woman from the
village of Huntsdown (5