His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. I want to be myself. " Mr. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. But after all, Mrs. Brendon’s guests,” she said, “and I scarcely think it would be nice of me to leave him alone with Sydney. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. Surely our advice would have been worth having, at any rate. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you. All right. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. I'll knock off at tea. “But—your people!” she gasped.
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