his good nature, stayed. The rain, which had begun to fall just as they were getting Mr. Guyon away from the race-course, was now falling in cold, pitiless, ceaseless streams, and the early darkness of a winter's evening had added its gloom to the scene. The gas had been lighted in the dining-room of Mr. Guyon's house, but the window-shutters were unclosed, and Stallbrass walked disconsolately up and down from the door to the window, stopping each time as he reached the latter boundary to look out into the damp dreariness of the street. His spirits were beginning to flag under the monotony of this occupation, and he was seeking relief by furtive snatches of reading--odd paragraphs in the _Field_ for last week, and little bits of the current _Punch_--when Mrs. Clarke came in, looking very pale and scared. "Well," said Stallbrass abruptly, but kindly, "what news is there? Has the lady come? She can't have come, though, or I should have seen her." "No, sir, she has not come; and I dread she won't while the breath is in her father, which it's all it is, as far as I can understand the doctors." "Really! I'm very sorry--poor old gentleman! Has he not recovered consciousness at all, then?" "No, sir, not a bit--he has groaned a few times, and then they thought he were coming to, but he didn't--but there, sir, there's a carriage--there's Mrs. Streightley----" And the housekeeper ran excitedly out, followed by Mr. Stallbrass, and threw open the door, through which a gust of wind and a cold dash of rain drove into the hall. Stallbrass saw a tall young lady, whose face, pale and agitated, struck him even then as being one of the most beautiful he had ever seen,---who passed into the room he had just left, followed by the housekeeper. He stood in the hall, the noise of wind and rain outside mingling with the stamping of the horses, the jingling of their harness, and the sound of the women's voices. "What is all this, Clarke? is it true?" asked Katharine, as she hurriedly untied her bonnet and flung it down, and threw off her pelisse of velvet and fur. "Yes, ma'am, it's all true. But O, why did you not come sooner? James has been more than an hour gone to fetch you." "I was out--they had to find me," she said, in the same hurried tone. "What do they say it is? Let me see the doctor. Let me go up stairs." "Yes, ma'am, directly," said Mrs. Clarke, down whose rosy and unrefined cheeks tears were beginning to flow. "But first you must see the gentleman that brought him home; he knows all about it; he breakfasted with master this morning. If you please, sir,--Lord ha' mercy, if he hasn't been left out in the hall!" Katharine stepped hastily towards the door, as Mrs. Clarke, with many voluble apologies, brought Mr. Stallbrass in. She thanked him briefly, and entreated him to tell her all that had happened. She listened to his story with painful eagerness, turning paler and paler as he went on; and when she had heard it all, she thanked him again.