this volume."

They were a long time finding anything in that volume. When they did
find it, behold! it was one of Mrs. Lorraine's songs, and that young
lady said if Mrs. Lavender would only allow herself to be superseded
for a few minutes--And so Sheila walked, with her head down, to
the conservatory, which was at the other end of the piano; and Mrs.
Lorraine not only sung this French song, but sang every one of the
verses; and at the end of it she had quite forgotten that Sheila had
promised to sing.

"You are very sensitive," she said to Sheila, coming into the
conservatory.

"I am very stupid," Sheila said with her face burning. "But it is a
long time since I will see the Highlands--and Mr. Ingram was talking
of the places I know--and--and so--"

"I understand well enough," said Mrs. Lorraine tenderly, as if Sheila
were a mere child in her hands. "But you must not get your eyes red.
You have to sing some of those Highland songs for us yet, when the
gentlemen come in. Come up to my room and I will make your eyes all
right. Oh, do not be afraid! I shall not bring you down like Lady
Leveret. Did you ever see anything like that woman's face to-night? It
reminds me of the window of an oil-and-color shop. I wonder she does
not catch flies with her cheeks."

So all the people, Sheila learned that night, were going away from
London, and soon she and her husband would join in the general
stampede of the very last dwellers in town. But Mairi? What was to