t; her
feet were on a level with her task; she was the height of a woman
above it.

Musing on this subject, letting her mind shoot to and fro like a
shuttle between the past and the present, she reached Piccadilly, and
entered a large jeweller's shop. The proprietor was talking to a
gentleman who was exhibiting a number of uncut gems. Aspatria knew him
instantly. It was Ulfar Fenwick,--the same Ulfar, older, and yet
distinctly handsomer. For the dark hair slightly whitened, and the
thin, worn cheeks, had an intensely human aspect. She saw that he had
suffered; that the sum of life was on his face,--toil, difficulty,
endurance, mind, and also that pathetic sadness which tells of
endurance without avail.

She went to the extreme end of the counter, and began to examine the
jewels which Sarah had sent to be reset. Some were finished; others
were waiting for the selection of a particular style, and Aspatria
looked critically at the models shown her. The occupation gave her an
opportunity to calm and consider herself; she could look at the jewels
a few moments without expressing an opinion.

Then she gave, in a clear, distinct voice, some order regarding a
pearl necklace; and Ulfar turned like a flash, and looked at the
woman who had spoken. She had the pearls in one hand; the other
touched a satin cushion on which lay many ornaments of diamonds,
sapphires, and rubies. The moonlight iridescence of the pearls, the
sparkling glory of the gems, seemed to be a part of her noble beauty.
He forgot his own treasures, and stood looking at the woman whose
voice had called to him out of the past, had penetrated his heart like
a bell struck sharply in its innermost room. Who was it? Where had
they met before? He knew the face. He knew, and yet he did not know,
the whole charming personality. As she turned, his eyes met her eyes,
and the pure pallor of her cheeks was flooded with crimson.

She passed him within touch; the rustle of her garments, their faint
perfume, the simple sense of her nearness, thrilled his being
wondrously. And, above all, that sense of familiarity! What could it
mean? He gave the stones into the jeweller's care, and hurriedly
followed her steps.

"That is Sarah Sandys's carriage, my barony for it!" he exclaimed;
"and the men are in the Sandys livery. Sarah, then, is in Richmond;
and the woman who rides in her carriage is very likely in her house;
but who can it be?"

The face haunted him, the voice torme