smiling. "He's a very interesting man, rich, and has an excellent position in England. He does n't do a great deal, but he always has strength enough to travel. I think, occasionally, perhaps, he is only hipped, but it would not do to say generally. Sometimes he talks about dying, and sometimes he talks about getting married."
"Who would marry him, though?" asked Letty, innocently.
"Who would n't marry him?" replied Miss Maywood, calmly. "There was a French woman a few years ago—" She stopped suddenly, remembering that she knew very little about this French woman, a widow of good family but small means. There had been a subdued hurricane of talk, and she remembered hearing that at the time wagers had been made as to whether the French woman would score or not. But Mr. Romaine had apparently outwitted Madame de Fonblanque,—that was her name,—and since the Chessinghams had been with him, nothing had been seen or heard of the French widow. So Miss Maywood merely said in her gentle, even way, "I grant you, he is n't young, and his health is not good, but his manners and his
