ath
reported, might conclude him to be safe.

And he never did write anything to excite alarm. No more perils or
hair-breadth escapes could be inferred from his letters than if he were
merely residing abroad from choice.

Mrs. Markham obtained her another situation. She had never succeeded in
discovering to whom Bluebell was married; but having persuaded herself it
was unnecessary to let that stand in the way, simply recommended her in
her maiden name.

"I look upon your governessing as a farce, you know, Bluebell, though any
one would gladly snap you up for your music alone. But when this war is
over, the mysterious husband will return, and you will pay me a visit in
your true colours."

And so they parted, with many promises of correspondence.

Bluebell's next venture was at Brighton, and she drove to Brunswick
Square one chilly afternoon in March, rather dejected at the prospect of
being again thrown among strangers.

"Not at home," said the servant. "Mrs. Barrington is hout-driving."

"Oh, it's all right," said a pert maid, tripping downstairs. "This way,
miss. I was to show you your room, and the children's tea will be ready
directly."

So saying, she preceded Bluebell upstairs to a chilly, fireless
apartment. Houses in Brighton are not generally very substantially built,
and the room was furnished on the most approved governess pattern,--just
what was barely necessary, no more. Bluebell was impressionable, perhaps
fanciful, for hitherto her "lines had fallen in pleasant places," and
she shivered a little at the forbidding exterior, but was somewhat
cheered by a suggestion of welcome conveyed by a bunch of violets on the
dressing-table. "There's some kind person in this house," thought she,
yet lingering awhile in a purposeless manner, unwilling to walk alone
into the school-room and face the strange children. While thus
hesitating, a demure little person came to fetch her, with tight plaited
hair, irreproachable pinafore, and stockings well drawn up. Two younger
duplicates were in the school-room. The table was laid for the evening
meal,--thick wedges of bread-and-butter, calculated to appease but not to
allure the appetite, and a large Britannia-metal teapot, with not
injuriously strong tea.

There were a couple of globes, an old piano, and book-cases well stocked
with grammars and histories, and the fire was guarded by a high fender,
effectually dissipating any frivolous notion of sitting with the fee