so, there was something almost of
exultation. The glory that had been supposed to be awaiting Marion
Fay was almost too much for the endurance of any neighbour. Since
it had become an ascertained fact that Lord Hampstead had admired
the girl, Marion's popularity in the Row had certainly decreased.
Mrs. Duffer believed her no longer to be handsome; Clara had always
thought her to be pert; Mrs. Demijohn had expressed her opinion that
the man was an idiot; and the landlady at the "Duchess of Edinburgh"
had wittily asserted that "young marquises were not to be caught with
chaff." There was no doubt a sense of relief in Clara Demijohn's mind
when she heard that this special young marquis had been trampled to
death in the hunting field, and carried home a corpse.

"I must go and tell the poor girl," said Clara, immediately.

"Leave it alone," said the old woman. "There will be plenty to tell
her, let alone you." But such occasions occur so rarely that it does
not do not to take advantage of them. In ordinary life events are so
unfrequent, and when they do arrive they give such a flavour of salt
to hours which are generally tedious, that sudden misfortunes come as
godsends,--almost even when they happen to ourselves. Even a funeral
gives a tasteful break to the monotony of our usual occupations, and
small-pox in the next street is a gratifying excitement. Clara soon
got possession of the newspaper, and with it in her hand ran across
the street to No. 17. Miss Fay was at Home, and in a minute or two
came down to Miss Demijohn in the parlour.

It was only during the minute or two that Clara began to think how
she should break the tidings to her friend, or in any way to realize
the fact that the "tidings" would require breaking. She had rushed
across the street with the important paper in her hand, proud of the
fact that she had something great to tell. But during that minute or
two it did occur to her that a choice of words was needed for such an
occasion. "Oh, Miss Fay," she said, "have you heard?"

"Heard what?" asked Marion.

"I do not know how to tell you, it is so terrible! I have only just
seen it in the newspaper, and have thought it best to run over and
let you know."

"Has anything happened to my father?" asked the girl.

"It isn't your father. This is almost more dreadful, because he is so
young." Then that bright pink hue spread itself over Marion's face;
but she stood speechless with her features almost harde