-

work; and though I could not help thinking of our strange lodger, I said no more about her. Evening was drawing on, when a plain brougham drove up to the private door. I listened for a knock - none came; but in a minute I heard the door opened, and just caught sight of the skirt of the lady's dress as she stepped into the carriage, which rolled rapidly away. I confess that I took advantage of the first minute I could spare to run up to the drawing-room. Every thing was in its place; no one would have supposed that any one had entered the room that day. A cambric-handkerchief, which lay upon the carpet near the window, was the only token that every thing which had passed had not been a dream."

PART II.

"NEXT day and the next the lady came in the forenoon, and remained until dusk, and each time the carriage drove up, and she came down, opened the door without any knock, and drove away. How did she know that the carriage had come I wondered-how did she distinguish it from the countless others that thronged the highway? What did she do there alone? was she always at one of the windows? I asked myself these questions, and I asked Hannah others. But Hannah knew nothing; the lady never rang her bell, and, beyond bid

than I was then; but that is not all the difference." She seemed to ponder over this in silence, and then went on: "I shall never forget one lady we had in these rooms in July, 1851. She came alone to look at the lodgings, and brought a recommendation from the agent Mrs. Jackson always employed. I remember I had to attend to her, for my aunt was taking orders for a wedding-outfit in the shop; and I never was so struck with the manner and appearance of any one in my life. I suppose she was about forty, and very handsome, but so wild and sad-looking, and so hurried and excited in her manner. She was beautifully dressed, but she had a reckless way; and I am sure she did not care about her dress or any thing. She spoke very quickly and in a very abrupt way, and seemed desperately bent upon taking the rooms, though she hardly looked at them, but walked straight up to the windows and gazed out, first right before her and then to each side, and never turned away all the time she stayed. I want to take these rooms at once,' she said; 'I don't hesitate to tell you that I have a particular purpose in taking them; but that purpose is a blameless one,' and she caught her breath with a great sob, a perfectly respectable one. I shall not require them for long, and I am willing to pay any reasonable rent. I shall require no attendance; I shall not be here at night, and shall receive no visitors. Pray do not refuse me; indeed you shall have no reason to regret having taken me. I cannot ex-ding her good-morning when she opened plain; if I could you would know that you the door for her, she never addressed her. would only be doing a charitable and kind Mrs. Jackson was very much occupied with action.' I remember that she sat down and her business, which began to thrive just panted, as if tired and out of breath, but then, and she gave herself no concern about still turned her head to the window. Of the mysterious lady, who never wanted any course the offer of the rent made no differ- thing, and never gave any trouble. When ence; if my aunt would take the poor lady Sunday came, my curiosity was keenly exas a lodger at all, she would not make her cited. I wondered whether the lady would pay for being, as she evidently was, in trou- come on that day to pass her time in the ble. I had to refer the matter to her; and same apparently profitless manner. Mrs. as I urged the lady's case for her very Jackson and I always went to one of the strongly, she consented. When I asked early services at St. Paul's, and Hannah was her what day she would like to come in, the free to go to the eleven-o'clock, afternoon, lady took me by surprise by replying, Now, or evening service, as she pleased. On - this minute. She laid a fortnight's rent this particular Sunday she had gone to the on the table as she spoke and her card. I eleven-o'clock service; and when a knock think I have the card still. Let me stay was heard at the door, it fell to my lot to here now,' she said; 'I shall only remain a open it. There stood the mysterious lady, few hours, but pray leave me.' I asked her richly dressed and closely veiled. She exif she would require any thing, but she changed a courteous salutation with me, and said, 'No; only some cold water to be left then passed hurriedly up the stairs. In the on the table. You may suppose I was as- idleness and rest of the Sunday hours, I tonished at all this; but I did as she asked thought more sadly and wonderingly than me, and took the money and the card down before of the strange lady. It was a profitto Mrs. Jackson. Then I settled to my less speculation for me nothing could be

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"Did that prediction come true?" asked Aunt Anne, who had been listening to this strange episode in the romance of lodgingletting with interest as great as that which the story of the Captain and Miss Winifred had excited.

overlooking the poor dear to remember any thing so sorrowful by her," said the little Irishwoman mournfully, and with a touch of the poetic superstition of her country and nation.

more unlikely than that I should ever learn her history; but I could not turn my thoughts from her, lonely, and I felt assured unhappy, in that orderly room, which she never disarranged by any trace. Mrs. Jackson and I dined alone on Sunday; and on this occasion we talked of the strange lady "It did indeed, ma'am," said Mrs. Devlin ; almost exclusively. Mrs. Jackson was in- "and in a sadly short time. But something clined to think she must be mad; but I else happened first. If you are not tired did not partake her opinion. It was not of my talk, I will tell you about it. It madness I saw in her face, whenever I all seems as clear and plain to me now, caught a glimpse of it, but misery, or though it happened eleven years ago, as you dreadful regret and hopelessness. The day seem sitting there, Mrs. Pennifold, or Miss was bright and sunny; happy groups of Winifred seemed when I used to watch her people wended their way through the streets, pretty ways. I remember, the day the Exthe birds sang, London birds though they hibition was opened, she was standing by were, as if they felt the sunshine quite as the window, but behind the curtain, so that much as any country birds could do; and she might not be seen, watching the carmy heart grew fuller and fuller, as I thought riages; and I thought, when I saw her tall of the lonely woman upstairs. At last I figure drawn up there, of the other, nearly determined to venture on showing her a lit- as beautiful, that I saw in the same place so tle kindness; so I placed a slice of cake many years before. All in a minute the and a glass of wine on a salver, and strange lady seemed to stand there again. went up to the drawing-room door. II did not like to think of it; it seemed like knocked, but she made no answer; so I turned the handle and went in. She was standing where you are sitting now, Mrs. Pennifold, by the side of the window; the curtain was drawn forward, and she was gazing through the chink left along its outer edge, her head resting against the woodwork. For a moment she did not hear me; but as I stepped forward, the glass I carried jingled against the plate, and she turned suddenly round. O what a face it was!full of weariness, and watching, and excitement, beautiful, and painful. I beg your pardon,' I said, but I thought you looked tired this morning and not very strong, and so I took the liberty of bringing up a glass of wine. Will you kindly take it? Thank you,' she said, passing her hand, as she spoke, wearily across her eyelids, and pressing them closely over the large eyeballs, 'I will.' She took the wine from my hand, sat down on the chair close to the window, and ate the piece of cake, drinking the wine with it slowly and absently, still keeping her gaze fixed upon the street. Presently she said, You are very thoughtful and kind; tell me your name.' I told her, and she wrote it down on a tablet. She said no more, and I saw there was no more to be said, so I took up the salver and left the room. Of course I told Mrs. Jackson about my short interview with the strange lady, and it made her more than ever convinced that she was mad. Think of her writing down your name, Honor,' she said; you'll be having a handsome legacy some of these days.””

"But what else happened about this lady, Mrs. Devlin?" I asked; "we want to hear all about her first, and then you shall talk of Miss Winifred to your heart's content. I forgot to tell you that Dr. Elliott knows her; he told us to-day he remembered attending the Captain."

"Very likely, ma'am; there was more than one doctor, two or three times, as well as I remember. But I will tell you about the strange lady. I remember every thing about her so well, that I think I see her face now and hear her voice. It was two or three days after that Sunday, and I was in the work-room, and Mrs. Jackson was busy in the shop, when I heard the drawingroom bell ring very loud, and in a minute or two Hannah came to the door and called me. Pray, go upstairs; the lady wants to see you very particularly.' I went at once, and there she was, with the whitest face I ever saw, and yet the brightest most imploring eyes. As I entered the room she came towards me hurriedly and said, 'Mrs. Devlin, who is there below in the shop?' I don't know,' I answered in great surprise; I was in the work-room when Hannah called me.' 'Go and see,' she said; pray go and see. I am almost sure a lady is there who has just crossed the street. Pray, go and see.' But how shall I know if if she is the same?' I asked. 'The lady I mean

6

mere abstract interest; we knew nothing of the dead woman who had kept her weary watch in the room that was so cheerful and happy a habitation for us; but the feeling that Mrs. Devlin threw into her narrative flung its charm over us, beneath which we sat silent.

either of affection or enmity, desperate as was her desire to see her. She does not know me,' she said: 'she would not recognise me; perhaps not under any circumstances, certainly not under these;" and she indicated her dress. Then she told me that she had watched since ten o'clock for me to leave the shop with my basket, and that "Yes," she continued slowly and sadly, her purpose-to which she entreated me "that was the meaning of it all. She was to accede with words of such dreadful earn-going away from England for ever, and she estness that they turned me cold and sick, it seemed so frightful to me to be thus implored, to have so much power even in only one thing, and for a short time, over a fellow-creature - was this: She would personate me, go to Wilton Place, try the articles of dress on the little girl for whom they had been ordered, take all necessary orders, and then rejoin me. I was to wait in the carriage for her at the other end of Wilton Place, in the mean time. Of course I objected; but she had foreseen, and overbore, every objection I raised. The lady was a stranger; no customer of ours; she would play her part so that no mistake could arise; if, at the worst, any did, why should the lady be surprised that one of Mrs. Jackson's work-women should be sent on one occasion, and a different one on another? No injury to any one was within the reach of possibility in the thing she wanted me to do; only an unspeakable boon to her, only a solace she had travelled far to seek, and must find now or never, for in a few days she would have left England for ever.

yearned for the sight of her child's face, which she knew she was never more to see, the child's face which she had not seen for years, in which she would find no recognition of herself. I cannot tell you her story, ladies, for I do not know, it, nor did I need. That it was a sad one, I knew too well; and terrible, when it could mean hopeless separation from her child. I had no power to question her, even if I had dared; and I did not; there was something awful about her in her sorrow. I only yielded to her, and pitied her with all my heart. She had not shed a single tear while she was speaking; and when she had done, she forced her face back into perfect calm. By a sharp jerk of the check-string she conveyed some direction to the coachman; and then taking the things out of the basket, she asked the questions necessary for her guidance in the part she was about to play. The little garments were all marked in plain figures, so the difficulties were few. All this had passed in a short space of time; and I had no idea where we were, when the carriage came to a stop at the end of Wilton Place. In a moment she opened the door, and stepped out. The street was singularly empty, and no one was passing on our side. She lifted the basket with one hand, pressed mine with the other, made a sign to the coachman, and was gone. The carriage moved slowly on, and I was driven at a foot-pace round the squares for about half an hour. I cannot, and I need not, attempt to describe the state my mind was in; I don't think any thing was very clear to me, and I believe the most distinct thought I had was of how I should account for my unusually long absence on business which really required so little delay. At length, as the carriage passed by the end of Wilton Place, I saw the lady walking steadily towards it. The coachman immediately drew up round the corner and out of sight, and she came on. I opened the door, but she beckoned to me to step out. I did so; she placed the basket in my hands, got into the carriage, and I cannot describe the impression these just bending towards me, said the one words made upon us; the story had for us a word, 'To-morrow.' Then the carriage

"I daresay, ladies, as I tell you this, in my feeble way, it sounds very foolish, and you think me very weak; but if you had seen that face alone with you, close to you, heard that voice, which seemed to thrill through my nerves, and felt the clinging hands, which would have spoken for her if she had been dumb, I think you would have yielded, as I did."

"I am sure I should, Mrs. Devlin," said Aunt Anne; "but I don't know about Mrs. James Pennifold; she is an attorney's wife, you know, and cautious."

"Hush, aunt," I said; "don't be spiteful, and let Mrs. Devlin finish her story; I quite share in her interest in the mysterious lady. But I cannot make out what she wanted to try on the little girl's clothes

for."

"Ladies," said Mrs. Devlin, and there was a great solemnity in her voice, " that little girl was the strange lady's only

child!"

don't understand such people. Put the bill up, Honor; the rooms won't want any extra cleaning this time, that's a blessing !' And so she went away, and no more was heard or thought of her in the house by any one but me."

"And was that all you ever knew, Mrs. Devlin?" I asked, after a pause, and breaking the silence with some difficulty. "You spoke of a legacy, did you not?" inquired Mrs. Carter.

drove rapidly off, leaving me standing on | vant as much as a month's wages. Ah! I the pavement like one in a dream. If any one had taken notice of her as she came towards me down the street, he must have seen one curious discrepancy in her dress; for she had thrown over her bonnet, so that I could not see her face, a veil of Spanish lace, which, I noticed, she had always worn on other days. Mrs. Jackson did remark on my delay; and I just said I had been kept waiting, when I remembered, with a start, that nothing had been said of the contents of the basket, and that I was therefore incompetent to give any account of my business. I hurriedly opened the basket, and found the things inside, with a slip of paper, on which was written, All the patterns approved. Mrs. Jackson will please furnish twelve of each article as early as possible.' She had not plundered them, and all was safe. 'You must see to that order, directly, Honor,' said Mrs. Jack-whether I had always had a personal knowson, and then turned her attention to something else. Later in the day, she said to me; Our mysterious lodger has not made her appearance to-day. Perhaps she will not come any more.' Perhaps not,' I said, as carelessly as I could. 'I hope she will give us notice,' said Mrs. Jackson; 'I should not like to re-let the rooms, even if the fortnight she has paid for were up, without knowing something about her.'

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"To-morrow,' the strange lady had said, and I waited anxiously for that to-morrow; and when it came I counted the hours, until the time at which she usually arrived. But she did not come. The morning passed, and then the afternoon; the order for No. 10 Wilton Place was in brisk course of execution; and from the workroom I listened to every sound, in the hope of hearing her foot upon the stairs. But I did not hear it then or since; and now it will never be heard any where on earth again. The evening had fallen, when a letter, directed to Mrs. Jackson, was brought by a commissionnaire. It was from the strange lady, and was a polite letter, telling her that circumstances had occurred which obliged her to leave England at once, and therefore she had no further need of the rooms. She enclosed a present in money for Hannah, and sent a handsome brooch, with kindest regards, to me. That was all; and when she had read the letter, Mrs. Jackson said, 'There, I told you she was mad; now I hope you believe me. She takes expensive lodgings, pays a fortnight's rent in advance, uses them for not quite a week, and apparently for the purpose of gaping out of window, and then goes off, giving the ser

"Yes," said Mrs. Devlin, answering us both simultaneously; "I did say something of a legacy: and that was not quite the last I heard of our strange lodger. About six years ago a young man called here one morning, and asked for a Mrs. Devlin. I answered his inquiries in person, and he put me through a regular cross-examination as to who I was, how long I had been here,

ledge of the lodgers, and so forth. I gave him some rather short answers; for I did not see his drift, and I did not understand why he should be so mightily inquisitive, in asking me so much, and telling me so little. Of course I told him I had a personal knowledge of the lodgers, seeing that, since Mrs. Jackson was dead, they were my lodg ers; but I did not know any thing about their affairs, and was not going to tell if I did. Somehow, he had a look about him that told me he belonged to the law, and made me fancy he meant mischief. O, thank you, Mrs. Devlin,' he said; it's nothing of that kind; I only wanted to identify you.' So he handed me a letter from a gentleman, named Mr. Bowley, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, in which he desired me to call at his office on the following day at eleven o'clock. Accordingly I went; and a very nice, clean, brisk, short-mannered gentleman Mr. Bowley was. He did not detain me ten minutes; and his business with me was, to give me a cheque for 501., and take my receipt for the money. Who do you think it came from, ladies?"

"From the mysterious lodger," we plied simultaneously.

re

"Yes," said Mrs Devlin, "from the mysterious lodger. She had died in some foreign country, and left me the money, free of legacy-duty, and Mr. Bowley paid it to me by order of her executor. I would have liked to ask him several questions about her; but he did not look encouraging, and I thought I had better not. So I merely ventured to ask if she ever came back to England after '51, or saw her little girl. Mr. Bowley answered very stiffly that