“Indeed, ma’am, you are in no state for it; I will undertake any purchases you may require.”

“Thank you, my good Baldwin; you are a good, kind, feeling, useful soul.  Oh, Baldwin, if it had pleased Heaven to take her by disease, it would have been bad enough to lose her; but to be drowned! her clothes all wetted through and through; her poor hair drenched, too; and then the water is so cold at this time of year—­oh! oh!  Send me a cross of jet, and jet beads, with the dress, and a jet brooch, and a set of jet buttons, in case—­besides—­oh! oh! oh!—­I expect every moment to see her carried home, all pale and wetted by the nasty sea—­oh! oh!—­and an evening dress of the same—­the newest fashion.  I leave it to you; don’t ask me any questions about it, for I can’t and won’t go into that.  I can try it on when it is made—­oh! oh! oh!—­it does not do to love any creature as I loved my poor lost Lucy—­and a black fan—–­oh! oh!—­and a dozen pair of black kid gloves—­oh!—­and a mourning-ring—­and—­”

“Stop, aunt, or your love for me will be your ruin!” said Lucy, coldly, and stood suddenly before the pair, looking rather cynical.

“What, Lucy! alive!  No, her ghost—­ah! ah!”

“Be calm, aunt; I am alive and well.  Now, don’t be childish, dear; I have been in danger, but here I am.”

Mrs. Bazalgette and Mrs. Baldwin flew together, and trembled in one another’s arms.  Lucy tried to soothe them, but at last could not help laughing at them.  This brought Baldwin to her senses quicker than anything; but Mrs. Bazalgette, who, like many false women, was hysterical, went off into spasms—­genuine ones.  They gave her salts—­in vain.  Slapped her hands—­in vain.

Then Lucy cried to Baldwin, “Quick! the tumbler; I must sprinkle her face and bosom.”

“Oh, don’t spoil my lilac gown!” gasped the sufferer, and with a mighty effort she came to.  She would have come back from the edge of the grave to shield silk from water.  Finally she wreathed her arms round Lucy, and kissed her so tenderly, warmly and sobbingly, that Lucy got over the shock of her shallowness, and they kissed and cried together most joyously, while Baldwin, after a heroic attempt at jubilation, retired from the room with a face as long as your arm. A bas les revenants!! She went to the housekeeper’s room.  The housekeeper persuaded her to stay and take a bit of dinner, and soon after dinner she was sent for to Mrs. Bazalgette’s room.

Lucy met her coming out of it.  “I fear I came mal apropos, Mrs. Baldwin; if I had thought of it, I would have waited till you had secured that munificent order.”

“I am much obliged to you, miss, I am sure; but you were always a considerate young lady.  You’ll be glad to learn, miss, it makes no difference; I have got the order; it is all right.”

“That is fortunate,” replied Lucy, kindly, “otherwise I should have been tempted to commit an extravagance with you myself.  Well, and what is my aunt’s new dress to be now?”