Lady Aberfeldie was a Scottish Episcopalian of the first class; one whose boast it was that she always distinguished Christmas and Easter by mince-pies and cheesecakes; and who rather looked down on English Ritualists and Tractarians as 'second chop;' and who never saw a Michaelmas without its goose; but she forgot the Michaelmas of this year, and with good reason too. The sudden arrival in the hospital at Ismailia of Captain Graham, the missing officer of the Black Watch, who had been carried off by Bedouins at Matarieh, and who was supposed to have shared the terrible fate of Professor Palmer and his companions, was duly 'wired' home, like many other items of Egyptian news, and caused no small excitement among the inmates of Puddicombe Villa, Southsea. The telegram added that he was without a wound, but was supposed to be dying of enteric fever, the result of all he had undergone when in the desert. 'Dying!' exclaimed his mother, pale as a lily; 'oh, it cannot be.' And Olive looked the picture of mute misery. Lord Aberfeldie telegraphed to the chief of the medical staff at Ismailia for distinct intelligence, and the reply--waited for with intense anxiety--came in its usual orange-tinted envelope. 'Not dying yet, but recovery very improbable.' Lord Aberfeldie, with the promptitude of an old soldier, and full of affection and anxiety, wished to start at once for Egypt, and alone; but the three ladies of his family insisted on going also, so he yielded to their tears, entreaties, and importunities--especially those of Olive, whose misery was very great; and he had much sympathy with a young and loving heart. 'Let no one decry the suffering of the young because they are young,' says a writer; as we grow older we get used to pain, both mental and bodily. Olive passed the hours, previous to departure, pretty much as we do those which precede a funeral; everything was done as a duty, dressing, undressing, sitting down to meals, and so forth--seeming to have no interest in anything, as if for the time, life and all its interests was over and done with. 'Oh, Eveline,' she exclaimed, 'what advantages men have over us in this world.' 'Of course they have,' replied her cousin, 'but to what do you refer in the present instance?' 'Now, if we were men, we could start for Egypt alone; as it is, we can only go with your papa.' 'If you were a man, Olive, you would not think of going at all.' 'Indeed--why?' 'Little goose! If a man, would you be engaged to Allan? Are you going to become an advocate for women's "rights"--whatever they may be?' 'No--but it is tiresome to have to run in the grooves of life that men lay down for us. Poor creatures, we are only in their eyes the weaker vessels after all.' 'But weaker vessels they make a great fuss with; but how we chatter! Oh, heavens, if Allan's peril--dear, dear Allan--should be so great!'