"Is Lord Egerton ill then?" asked Winter, with some interest. "He had a paralytic seizure about four or five months ago, and has been in a very bad state ever since; his brother, Colonel Egerton, was sent for to India; he was down at Allerton a short time since, not very well himself, I believe." Kate's soul was in her ears during this communication; and while she chided herself for thinking of him, her thoughts dwelt on Egerton, till, at last, wearied by the excitement, she had gone through, her slight, graceful form lent more and more against the side of the carriage, and she slept. Winter carefully drew her cloak round her, and fastened it closer to her throat; and, as she opened her eyes, slightly roused by his movement, she silently thanked God that she was no more uncared for and alone. "Tickets if you please," were the next sounds that met her ear--"Great time! only just eight," from Winter, as she looked up bewildered after the disturbed sleep in which she had indulged. "Where are we?" "Near home," said Winter, while his bead-like eyes twinkled with more than usual vivacity. "Sure you have left no indispensable carpet-bag behind? got your parasol? all right--in with you--14, Orchard Street--drive fast." And away through dull, dark streets, now whisk round a corner into a blaze of light and flaring gas jets over butchers' stalls--now winding through omnibusses--anon dashing past the brilliantly lit up _entré_ to some concert room--again into darkness undiminished save by the street lamps and hall lights--then a rumble over the side stones. "Here we are," from Winter--as the door flew open before their charioteer could knock. Mrs. Winter, standing under the lamp, in a cap that looked as if it had been made at A----, herself neat, as though she never had encountered a Spanish flea. "Dearest Kate! I thought you would never come!" A sobbing, joyous embrace, and she was swept up-stairs, where even the London lodging looked homelike under Mrs. Winter's benign influence. Then came the plentiful tea--hot cakes, and broiled ham and eggs, with mulled port for the lady, and brandy-and-water for the gentleman--and the delicious confusion of cross questions, and most irrelevant answers--and the mingling of tears and smiles! "Now you must go to bed," said Winter; "see, it is long past one--and that poor child has been in constant agitation all day--she has not a vestige of color in her cheeks." "Indeed, my dear, you look ill--yes--you must go to bed," observed his wife, with her usual kindly precision, which nothing but the actual excitement of the moment of meeting could break through, and which Kate recognized joyfully as an old friend. "The sober certainty of waking bliss," may well be weighed against the agony of first waking after grief. And Kate lay for some time, the next morning, comparing this Sunday with the last; then her thoughts flew to nurse, and she sprang up to communicate to her the joyful news of her emancipation.