"Beg pardon, Sir Rowland," said the attendant, "but there's a boy from Mr. When he returned, a moment or so afterwards, he found Sir Rowland standing by the lifeless body of his sister. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. . Yours?" The stranger hesitated. But she did not bother her head very much about her relations with these sympathizers. So far it had been plain sailing, and it had seemed fairly evident to go on: “I find it very difficult to answer your letter. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively.
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