Mrs. Mortimer wore the curious, half-indifferent, half-expectant
air of one ready for recognition, but not claiming it as a right.

At the first glance, a puzzled look came into the young man's
eyes. He looked again: then there was a blank in his eyes. Mrs.
Mortimer made no sign, but sat still, half-expectant. He was
past her now, but he flung a last glance over his shoulder. He
was evidently very doubtful whether the lady on the seat, in the
heavy mourning robes, were someone he knew or not. First he
thought she was, and then he thought she wasn't. The face
certainly reminded him of--now who the deuce was it? Harry knit
his brows and exclaimed:

"I half believe that's somebody I know!"

And he puzzled over it, for nearly five minutes, all in vain.
Meanwhile Mrs. Mortimer looked at the sea, till Johnnie told her
that it was dinner-time.




II.

WHY MEN DON'T MARRY.

We were sitting around the fire at Colonel Holborow's. Dinner
was over--had, in fact, been over for some time--the hour of
smoke, whisky, and confidence had arrived, and we had been
telling one another the various reasons which accounted for our