"No, nothing of that sort. I'm sure I don't know what it was," added old Tamlyn, rubbing back his scanty grey hair in perplexity. "Any way, they feared she was going to die. The French doctor said her getting well was a miracle. She lay ill ten days, keeping her bed, and was still ill and very weak when she reached home. Mina believes that a lady who was detained at the same hotel by the weather, and who came forward and offered her services as nurse, saved Lady Jenkins's life. She was so kind and attentive; never going to her bed afterwards until Lady Jenkins was up from hers. She came home with them." "Who did? This lady?" "Yes; and has since remained with Lady Jenkins as companion. She is a Madame St. Vincent; a young widow----" "A Frenchwoman!" exclaimed Mr. Shuttleworth. "Yes; but you wouldn't think it. She speaks English just as we do, and looks English. A very nice, pleasant young woman; as kind and loving to Lady Jenkins as though she were her daughter. I am glad they fell in with her. She---- Oh, is it you, Sam?" A tall smiling young fellow of eighteen, or so, had come in. It was Sam Jenkins: and, somehow, I took to him at once. Mr. Shuttleworth shook hands and said he was glad to hear he promised to be a second Abernethy. Upon which Sam's wide mouth opened in laughter, showing a set of nice teeth. "I thought Dr. Knox was here, sir," he said to Mr. Tamlyn, as if he would apologize for entering. "Dr. Knox is gone over to the Brook, but I should think he'd be back soon now. Why? Is he wanted?" "Only a message, sir, from old Willoughby's. They'd like him to call there as soon as convenient in the morning." "Now, Sam, don't be irreverent," reproved his master. "_Old_ Willoughby! I should say Mr. Willoughby if I were you. He is no older than I am. You young men of the present day are becoming very disrespectful; it was different in my time." Sam laughed pleasantly. Close upon that, Dr. Knox came in. He was more altered than Janet, looking graver and older, his light hair as wild as ever. He was just thirty now. Mr. Shuttleworth left in the morning, and afterwards Dr. Knox took me to see his step-mother. Her house (but it was his house, not hers), Rose Villa, was in a suburb of the town, called the London Road. Mrs. Knox was a dark, unpleasing-looking woman; her voice harsh, her crinkled black hair untidy--it was never anything else in a morning. The two eldest girls were in the room. Mina was seventeen, Charlotte twelve months younger. Mina was the prettiest; a fair girl with a mild face and pleasant blue eyes, her manner and voice as quiet as her face. Charlotte seemed rather strong-minded. "Are you going to the soirée next door to-night, Arnold?" cried Mrs. Knox, as we were leaving. "I think not," he answered. "Janet wrote to decline." "You wished her to decline, I dare say!" retorted Mrs. Knox. "You always did despise the soirées, Arnold."