A Widow's Tale, and Other Stories. Mrs. Oliphant

he been ill long?"

      "Oh, bless you, not at all. He has his 'ealth as well as could be wished; only a little bilious or that now and then, as gentlemen will be. They ain't so careful in what they eat and drink as ladies—that's what I always say."

      "He is only bilious then—not ill? not long ill? there has been no—operation?"

      "Oh, bless you, nothing of the sort!" the young woman said, with the most evident astonishment.

      Mrs Lycett-Landon put all these questions in a kind of dream. Something kept her from saying who she was. She felt a curious anxiety to find out all the details before she announced herself.

      "I think he will see me," she said, a little faintly. "I have come a long way to see him. Take me to him, please."

      "Is it business, ma'am?" said the girl.

      "Business? yes; you may say it is business. I am his——Take me to him at once, please."

      "Oh dear, I can't do that. I ask your pardon, but the last thing the doctor said was that he mustn't be troubled with no business."

      "But I must see him," Mrs Lycett-Landon said.

      "You can't, ma'am, not to-day—it's not possible. To be sure," the girl added with a pleasant smile, "if Mrs Landon would do as well."

      "Mrs——, whom——?"

      "Mrs Landon—Mrs Lycett-Landon, that's her full name. Oh, didn't you know as he was married? She'll be down in a moment if you'll step inside."

      The woman outside the door felt herself turned to stone. She said faintly, "Yes, I think I will step inside."

      "Do, ma'am: you don't look at all well; you've been standing in the sun. Missis will be fine and angry if she knows as I let you stand like that. Take a chair, ma'am, please. She'll be here in a moment," the cheerful maid-servant said.

      She did not ask for the visitor's name—she was evidently not accustomed to visits of ceremony—but went up-stairs quickly, with her solid foot sounding on every step.

      The visitor for her part sat down, not feeling able to keep upon her feet, and faintly looked round her, seeing everything, understanding nothing. What did it all mean? The room was furnished like that of a newly-married pair. Little decorations were about, newly-bound books, a new little desk all ormolu and velvet; albums, photograph-frames, trifles from Switzerland, carved and painted, like relics of a recent journey. Nothing was in absolute bad taste, but the fashion of the furnishing was not of the larger kind, which means wealth. It was slightly pretty, perhaps a little tawdry, yet not sufficiently worn to acquire that look as yet. Mingled with all this decoration, however, there was something else which had a curious effect upon the intruder, something that reminded her of her husband's library at home, a chair of the form he liked, a solid table or two, strangely out of place amid the little low sofas and étagères. She saw all this, and took it into her mind at a glance, without making any of these observations upon it. She made no observations. She was unable even to think; the maid's words went through her head without any will of hers—"Didn't you know as he was married?" "If Mrs Landon would do as well." Mrs Landon! Who was this that bore her own name—who was the man up-stairs? She was not in any hurry to be enlightened. She seemed to herself rather grateful for the pause; glad to hold off any discovery that there might be to make with both hands, to keep it at arm's length. She sat quite still in this strange room, not thinking or able to think, wondering what was about to happen—what strange thing was coming to her.

      At last she heard a footstep, a light step very different from the maid's, coming down-stairs. She rose up instinctively and took hold of the back of a chair to support herself. The door opened, and a young woman, pretty, timid, tall, in a white flowing gown, with a little cap upon her dark hair, and a pair of appealing eyes, came in. She had an uncertain look, as if not wholly accustomed to her position. She said with a pretty blush and shyness, "They tell me that you want to see my husband on business—but he is not well enough for business. Is it anything that I could do?"

      "Will you tell me who you are?"

      The new-comer looked a little surprised at the voice, which was hoarse and unnatural, of her visitor. She answered with a little dignity, drawing up her slight young figure. "I am Mrs Lycett-Landon," she said.