as then nearly as
far a cry to Broadway as it is now to Tokio.

Appeals to Gwen to go abroad with her mother failed. She also made
difficulties--good big ones--about going with her parents to Scotland.
Her scheme was transparent, though she indignantly disclaimed it. How
could anything be more absurd than to accuse her of conspiring with
Irene towards a visit to that young lady at Pensham Steynes? Had she not
promised to live without seeing Adrian for six months, and was she not
to be trusted to keep her word?

She really wished to convince her father of the reality of her
attachment, apart from compensation due to loss of sight. So she agreed
to accompany Cousin Clotilda to London, and to stay with her at the
town-mansion of the Macganister More, who had just departed this life,
leaving the whole of his property to the said Cousin, his only daughter
and heiress. She rather looked forward to a sojourn in the great house
in Cavendish Square, a mysterious survival of the Early Georges, which
had not been really tenanted for years, though Sister Nora had camped in
it on an upstairs floor you could see Hampstead Heath from. It would be
fun to lead a gypsy life there, building castles in the air with Sister
Nora's great inheritance, and sometimes peeping into the great
unoccupied rooms, all packed-up mirrors and chandeliers and consoles and
echoes and rats--a very rough inventory, did you say? But admit that you
know the house! Its individuality is unimportant here, except in so far
as it supplied an attraction to London for a love-sick young lady. Its
fascination and mystery were strong. So were the philanthropies that
Sister Nora was returning to, refreshed by a twelve-month of total
abstinence, with more power to her elbow from a huge balance at her
banker's, specially contrived to span the period needed for the putting
of affairs in order.

So when Miss Grahame--that was the family name--went on to London, after
a month's stay at the Towers, Gwen was to accompany her. That was the
arrangement agreed upon. But before they departed, they paid a visit to
Granny Marrable at Chorlton, who was delighted at the reappearance of
Sister Nora, and was guilty of some very transparent insincerity in her
professions of heartfelt sorrow for the Macganister More. He, however,
was very soon dismissed from the conversation, to make way for Dave
Wardle.

Her young ladyship from the Castle hardly knew anything about Dave. In
fact, his