soul drift out dreamily into eternity?  If so, Gabriel will require a powerful microscope to find him.  Notwithstanding the fact that you destined him for my cousin, the little curly creature always impressed me as being a stray specimen of an otherwise extinct type of intellectual Lacrymatoria.  Is he really dead?  Peace to his infusorial soul!  Who had the courage to write and break the melancholy tidings to you?  Or perhaps, after all, it is only the ghost of your own conscience that has brought that scared look into your face.”

She laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

“How insanely jealous you are of Victor!  He’s neither dead nor dreaming of suicide, but enjoying himself vastly in Baden-Baden.  Edna, did Mrs. Powell bring Gertrude with her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how long she intends remaining at the parsonage?”

“I think her visit is of indefinite duration.”

“Edna, will you oblige me by inquiring whether Henry intends to give us any supper to-night?  He forgets we have had no dinner.  St. Elmo, do turn down that gas—­the wind makes it flare dreadfully.”

Edna left the room to obey Mrs. Murray’s command, and did not return immediately; but, after the party seated themselves at the table, she noticed that the master seemed in unusually high spirits; and when the meal was concluded, he challenged his cousins to a game of billiards.

They repaired to the rotunda, and Mrs. Murray beckoned to Edna to follow her.  As they entered her apartment she carefully closed the door.

“Edna, when did Mrs. Powell arrive?”

“Last night.”

“Did you see her?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is she very pretty?”

“She is the most beautiful woman I ever met.”

“How did Mr. Hammond receive her?”

“Her visit evidently annoys him, but he gave me no explanation of the matter, which I confess puzzles me.  I should suppose her society would cheer and interest him.”

“Oh, pooh!  Talk of what you understand.  She surely has not come here to live?”

“I think he fears she has.  She is very poor.”

Mrs. Murray set her teeth together and muttered something which her companion did not understand.

“Edna, is she handsomer than Estelle?”

“Infinitely handsomer, I think.  Indeed, they are so totally unlike it would be impossible to compare them.  Your niece is very fine-looking, very commanding; Mrs. Powell is beautiful.”

“But she is no longer young.  She has a grown daughter.”

“True; but in looking at her you do not realize it.  Did you never see her?”

“No; and I trust I never may!  I am astonished that Mr. Hammond can endure the sight of her.  You say he has told you nothing about her?”

“Nothing which explains the chagrin her presence seems to cause.”

“He is very wise.  But, Edna, avoid her society as much as possible.  She is doubtless very fascinating; but I do not like what I have heard of her, and prefer that you should have little conversation or intercourse with her.  On the whole, you might as well stay at home now; it is very warm, and you can study without Mr. Hammond’s assistance.”