Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. He was picked up from amongst the wreckage of a broken motor on the road to Versailles last night, and we have information that a lady was with him only a few minutes before the accident occurred. Every one turned to her in astonishment. “Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said. The great world outside! She stood motionless beside the trunk, deep in speculation; and thus the doctor found her.
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