Annot's mother had toiled always in the matrimonial market--long unaided by the young lady herself--and now the latter had landed a golden fish at last, as she thought, in the future heir of Earlshaugh--Mr. Hawkey Sharpe! No longer was she to be perplexed by questions how few or how many thousand a year had such as Bob Hoyle, and on other delicate matters dear to the Belgravian mater, and concerning 'detrimentals.' After more than one season spent in the chase, after dinners that were too costly for a limited exchequer, handsome dresses and much showy appearance, laborious days and watchful nights, snubs and disappointments--_homme propose, femme dispose_--Annot was fairly off her hands, and to be a 'Lady of that Ilk.' She had played her cards in Scotland beautifully! And now came to pass the event which ruffled the calm pool of Maude's existence, when within three days of Elliot's departure to rejoin the army in Egypt. The crisis from which she ever shrank seemed now to have come! Oftentimes before this had she wondered whether it were possible such unbroken happiness as her present life would ever come again, despite the tender, earnest, and trusting love that glowed in her breast; and on one particular evening, when Jack Elliot was absent making some final preparations, and would not be home till late, she sat alone, striving to prepare herself for the change, the solitude and anxiety that were to come, and praying tearfully for strength to pass the bitter ordeal--the wrench that was before them both. This happy, happy honeymoon of a few weeks was drawing to its close, and her soft blue eyes grew very full as she thought over the whole situation, when a visitor was suddenly announced. A showily-dressed and smart-looking little woman, about thirty years of age apparently, rather pretty, but flippant and nervous in manner, and having a slight _soupçon_ of 'making-up' about her cheeks and eyelashes, was ushered in, and eyed, with some boldness and effrontery (to conceal the nervousness referred to), Maude, who, by force of habit, bowed and indicated a seat, which her visitor at once took, and threw up her veil. Maude saw that her features were good, but this colouring and expression made them cunning and daring, if somewhat remarkable and attractive. Maude then remembering that this person had not sent in a card or announced herself, inquired to what she owed the occasion of her visit. 'The occasion--you'll soon know that--too soon for your own peace of mind, poor girl! You are--Miss Lindsay?' 'I was Miss Lindsay,' replied Maude. 'And who are you now?' Maude stared at her visitor with some alarm. 'If you take an interest in Captain Elliot, it is a pity,' continued the latter. 'Interest--pity?' questioned Maude, rising now, and drawing near to the handle of the bell.