"We were as quick as we could be," said Mrs. Bent, in apology for having kept her guest waiting; "but I had to empty the chamber first of some articles that were in it. I might have given you another room at once, ma'am, for we always keep them in readiness, you see; but this is the largest and has the pleasantest look-out; and I thought if the little girl was to be ill, you'd like it best." "Articles belonging to a former traveller?" asked the lady, who was kneeling then before her trunk to get out her child's night-things. "Yes, ma'am. A gentleman we had here a few short weeks ago." "And he has left?" "Oh yes," replied Mrs. Bent, gently combing back the child's soft brown hair, before she passed the sponge of warm water over her face. "But why did he not take his things with him?" "Well, ma'am, he--he left unexpectedly; and so they remained here." Now, in making this somewhat evasive answer, Mrs. Bent had no particular wish to deceive. But, what with the work she had before her, and what with the fretful child on her knee, it was not exactly the moment for entering on gossip. The disappearance of Anthony Castlemaine was too public and popular a theme in the neighbourhood for any idea of concealment to be connected with it. The lady, however, thought she meant to evade the subject, and said no more. Indeed the child claimed all their attention. "Marie soif," said the little one, as they put her into bed. "Maman, Marie soif." "Thirsty, always thirsty!" repeated the mother in English. "I don't much like it; it bespeaks fever." "I'll get some milk and water," said Mrs. Bent. "No, no, not milk," interposed the lady. "Oui, ma chérie! A spoonful or two of sugar and water while maman makes the tisane. Madame has herbs, no doubt," she added, turning to the landlady. "I could make it soon myself at this good fire if I had a little casserole: a--what you call it?--saucepan." Mrs. Bent promised the herbs, for she had a store-room fall of different kinds, and the saucepan. A little sugared water was given to the child, who lay quiet after drinking it, and closed her eyes. Moving noiselessly about the room, the lady happened to go near the window, and her eye caught the moving sea in the distance, on which some bright light yet lingered. Opening the casement window for a moment, she put her head out, and gazed around. "The sea is very nice to see, but I don't like to think of being on it," she said as she shut the window. "What is that great building over yonder to the left?" "It's the Grey Nunnery, ma'am." "The Grey Nunnery! What, have you a nunnery here in this little place? I had no idea."