Alec had not, indeed, forgotten Laura Mowbray; though he had long since awakened from his first dream of love. Now, at twenty-two, he looked back on himself at nineteen as not only very young, but very foolish. He had half forgotten the episode of his wild declaration of love; but when he heard that Laura was near him once more, he was filled with a variety of emotions. At one time he determined to do nothing, to forget her if he could; at another time he was almost ready to set out and begin an insane search for her through the streets of London. He confessed to himself that though he had been intimate with Miss Mowbray he really knew her very slightly. He wanted to see her again, to learn something more of her; and yet he hesitated about deliberately setting to work to renew the old acquaintance. As often happens in such a case, chance decided the matter for him. Two or three days after hearing that Laura was in town, Alec received a letter from his sister, in which she told him that their uncle James and his family had taken a furnished house in London, No. 21, Claremont Gardens, W., and meant to stay there some months. The old man had become much more feeble during the last three years. And instead of making the best of things, and meeting the inevitable weakness of old age with a cheerful courage, he chose to consider himself a great invalid, and made his health the chief consideration of his life. This, of course, did not tend to improve either his health or his temper; and he had been for the last two years dragging his family about from one watering-place to another, to Aunt Jean’s great disgust. She, good woman, was made of sterner stuff than her rich cousin. She did not approve of the unsettled life she was forced to lead; and she did not believe that her relative was even as much in need of care and attention as he really was. As for Laura Mowbray, she possessed that enviable disposition (shared by people of all sorts and conditions) of making the best of things. She took care to keep out of her guardian’s way when he was in a specially irritable mood; she flattered and soothed him not unsuccessfully now and then; she avoided Miss Lindsay as much as possible; and she seized upon every opportunity of amusing herself. She was by no means sorry to visit first one spa and then another, though she was forced to witness from the outside gaieties which no one asked her to share. ‘One day,’ she would say to herself, drawing her lips over her set teeth, as she sat listening to the band to which the other guests in the hotel were dancing. But she often received attentions from stray visitors, which helped in some degree to console her for the lack of amusements. When she heard that Mr. Lindsay had determined to spend some months in London, so as to secure the services of the famous Dr. Sheepshanks, Laura was overjoyed.