'No,' said Mrs. Langton; 'you know I never read daily papers. Gerald,' she cried suddenly, with a light coming into her eyes, 'is another judge dead?' Visions of her husband on the Bench, a town-house in a more central part of London, an increase of social consideration for herself and daughters, began to float into her brain. * * * * * 'It's not that--if there was, I'm not likely to be offered a judgeship just yet; it's not good news, Belle, I'm afraid it's very bad,' he said warningly, 'very bad indeed.' 'Oh, papa,' cried Mabel, 'please don't break it to us--tell it at once, whatever it is!' 'You must let me choose my own course, my dear; I am coming to the point at once. The "Globe" has a telegram from Lloyd's agent reporting the total loss of the "Mangalore."' 'Vincent's ship!' said Mabel. 'Is--is he saved?' 'We cannot be certain of anything just yet--and--and these disasters are generally exaggerated in the first accounts, but I'm afraid there is very grave reason to fear that the poor boy went down with her--not many passengers were on board at the time, and only four or five of them were saved, and they are women. We can hope for the best still, but I cannot after reading the particulars feel any confidence myself. I made inquiries at the owners' offices this afternoon, but they could tell me very little just yet, though they will have fuller information by to-morrow--but from what they did say I cannot feel very hopeful.' Mabel hid her face, trying to realise that the man who had sat opposite to her there scarcely a month ago, with the strange, almost prophetic, sadness in his eyes, was lying somewhere still and white, fathoms deep under the sea--she was too stunned for tears just yet. 'Gerald,' said Mrs. Langton, 'Vincent is drowned--I'm sure of it. I feel this will be a terrible shock to me by-and-by; I don't know when I shall get over it--poor, poor dear fellow! To think that the last time I saw him was that evening we dined at the Gordons'--you remember, Gerald, a dull dinner--and he saw me into the carriage, and stood there on the pavement saying good-bye!' Mrs. Langton seemed to consider that these circumstances had a deep pathos of their own; she pressed her eyes daintily with her handkerchief before she could go on. 'Why didn't he sail by one of the safe lines?' she murmured; 'the P. and O. never lost a single life; he might have gone in one of them and been alive now!' 'My dear Belle,' said her husband, 'we can't foresee these things, it--it _was_ to be, I suppose.' 'Is nothing more known?' said Mabel, with a strong effort to control her voice.