"You--you frightened me, auntie," murmured Cecil, as she sank helplessly into the chair from which she had risen in her sudden terror. "You know how little Hector Gordon and I have ever been to each other--what utter strangers we are and must always be to one another now. But to be told all at once, that a person you have known and been familiar with is dead, the shock--the----" The words died on her lips. The sudden terror that had taken possession of her had given place to a new fear. She was alarmed by the intensity of her own feelings. "If he were really dead," she thought, "what right should I have to feel like that?" She recovered herself with an effort, and after a brief pause addressed the agitated dowager very calmly. "Tell me all about it, auntie," she said; "it is very shocking--so young--so happy." In the moment after having said these words, a pang of envy shot through Cecil's heart. Ah, what an enviable fate it seemed, this destiny which commonplace people are so apt to bemoan! To have one brief year of perfect bliss, and then to die; to live the life of the roses and butterflies; to be indeed the favoured of the gods. "It seems there was a baby," said Mrs. MacClaverhouse, "though _I_ had not been told there was any thing of that sort expected; and of course, if the poor child had lived, they would have looked for their godmothers elsewhere. The infant was a son, and Hector was delighted, and every body else was delighted. But things took a bad turn; the baby died, and the poor young mother fretted, and then there came a fever, and in three weeks' time my poor boy was a widower. I have had no letter from him yet, but they tell me he is dreadfully broken-hearted." "It is very dreadful for him," murmured Cecil. "And worse for her, I should think, poor thing," said the matter-of-fact dowager. "I tell you, my dear Sir, if Bamper goes in for specific performance of contract, the defendant hasn't a leg to stand on," said the sonorous voice of Mr. O'Boyneville, who entered the room at this moment in hot argument with his friend. "Good gracious me, Mrs. Mac.!" he exclaimed, on entering the dusky chamber, "how is it they have left you in the dark all this time?--Cecil, what have you been thinking of? Where's that fellow Pupkin?" The valuable Pupkin appeared with lights at this moment. The barrister's powerful will vanquished his household as it conquered all other opponents. The man-of-all-work had entered his service ten years before, a rough and unkempt lad, with no ideas beyond blacking-brushes and a knifeboard, to become in due time the very pink and model of indoor domestics.