those days there was a strong affection between her and Miriam
Elgar, and it showed no sign of diminution in either when, on Mrs.
Elgar's death, a year and a half after Miriam's marriage, Cecily
passed into the care of her father's sister, a lady of moderate
fortune, of parts and attainments, and with a great love of
cosmopolitan life. A few months more and Mrs. Baske was to be a
widow, childless, left in possession of some eight hundred a year,
her house at Bartles, and a local importance to which she was not
indifferent. With the exception of her brother, away in London, she
had no near kin. It would now have been a great solace to her if
Cecily Doran could have been her companion; but the young girl was
in Paris, or Berlin, or St. Petersburg, and, as Miriam was soon to
learn, the material distance between them meant little in comparison
with the spiritual remoteness which resulted from Cecily's education
under Mrs. Lessingham. They corresponded, however, and at first
frequently; but letters grew shorter on both sides, and arrived less
often. The two were now to meet for the first time since Cecily was
a child of fourteen.

The ladies arrived at the villa about eleven o'clock. Miriam had
shown herself indisposed to speak of them, both last evening, when
Mallard was present, and again this morning when alone with her
relatives; at breakfast she was even more taciturn than usual, and
kept her room for an hour after the meal. Then, however, she came to
sit with Eleanor, and remained when the visitors were announced.

Mrs. Lessingham did not answer to the common idea of a strong-minded
woman. At forty-seven she preserved much natural grace of bearing, a
good complexion, pleasantly mobile features. Her dress was in
excellent taste, tending to elaboration, such as becomes a lady who