, she's going through a curious morbid phase which has
completely changed her. All that time she had her ideas that it was her
duty to wait and suffer; and I do honestly believe that if that man had
behaved himself, been released on a ticket of--ticket of--what do they
call those tickets, Percy?"

"Leave," said the young barrister gravely.

"Yes; of course--she would have considered it her duty to go to him if
he had come to claim her; and then died of misery and despair in a
month."

"Had we not better change the conversation, Miss Jerrold?" said Stratton
quietly.

"Yes, of course. I'm a very stupid old woman, I suppose; but Myra does
worry me a great deal. One moment, and I've done, and I suppose things
must take their course. But all this treating herself as a widow and--
there--there--there--I have done. I suppose I need not tell you they
are coming here to-day?"

"I did hope to see Miss--"

"Hush! Don't call her that, my dear. It must be Mrs Barron, or she
will consider herself insulted. Ah, she's a strange girl, Mr Stratton,
but we can't help liking her all the same, can we?"

She held out her hand to him with a pleasant smile and a nod; and Guest
saw his friend's eyes brighten, and then noted his passionate, eager
look, as there was a ring and knock.

But the ladies who came up were strangers; and it was not until quite
the last that Myra and her cousin arrived, the former in black, and with
a calm, resigned look in her pale face, which had grown very thoughtful
and dreamy during the six months which had elapsed since that morning at
breakfast, when the news came of James Dale's tragic end.

And now her eyes softened as she greeted Stratton, and she sat talking
to him in a quiet, subdued way, till the gentlemen took their leave, and
made their way back to Benchers' Inn.

Hardly a word was spoken till they were in Stratton's room, where Guest
threw his hat and umbrella down impatiently, walked straight to the door
on the left of the fireplace, opened it, went in, and returned with a
cigar box, which he set down, and then went back to fetch out the
spirit-stand and a siphon from another shelf, while, dreamy looking and
thoughtful, Stratton sat back in an easy-chair watching his friend's
free and easy, quite at home, ways, but thinking the while of Myra.

"Might have troubled yourself to get the glasses," said Guest
ill-humouredly, as he fetched a couple of tall, green Venice cups from a
cabine