meeting Kirke's obligations of this sort, so you will allow me to discharge this one at once."
The good lady for an instant looked pleased at the idea of recovering the long-standing debt, but presently wagged her head with a knowing smile. "No, no, my young friend; I know where those available funds come from. Your purse must be a pretty long one if it is to pay all that man's debts, I can tell you. Of course I should like to see my money again; that's only natural. I haven't too much to live on, you know; only my widow's pension, and the special allowance they give me on account of poor Polwheedle's services, and his small savings, and the trifle left by poor Jones; still, I'm not going to take your money. If you must give it to somebody, give it to her, poor thing; she is sure to be in want of it, wherever she is; for all she was so tall and grand-looking, she was as helpless as an infant about housekeeping and money matters, and is still, you may depend; and I'll be bound that man in Egypt is not too free with his remittances."
"So you have no idea where Mrs. Kirke is?" said Yorke presently, asking himself whether her old acquaintance might not perchance be some help to the poor wife in her present distress, and yet doubtful as to the prudence of telling Mrs. Polwheedle what he knew.
"I haven't an idea; but I hope and trust she won't meet poor Falkland, wherever she is. It would kill her, I do believe. Colonel Yorke, I was always against that second marriage. I mistrusted the man, for all he was such a handsome man, and such a fine soldier; and now this seems like a judgment on hear for marrying so soon. Why, I was seven years a widow after I lost my poor Jones, before I accepted Polwheedle. He wanted me to shorten the time; but I was quite firm. There's a want of delicacy, to my mind, in marrying again under seven years; don't you think so? After seven years it's a different thing, of course; but a woman should be delicate before everything."
Presently the conversation came back to the subject of Yorke's visit, and Mrs. Polwheedle for the first time expressed her surprise at what, if she had not been so full of her own story, might have struck her at first, that Yorke had not appeared so much astonished at her news as was to be expected.
Then Yorke told her that he too had seen Falkland — the recognition, like hers, having been accidental — and expected to see him again very shortly; although he evaded Mrs. Polwheedle's very natural curiosity to know where and how the meeting had happened. Falkland, he added, did not know that he had been recognized by anybody else; for his sake and for Olivia's, the secret must be kept; and he used all the earnestness of manner he could summon for the occasion, in exhorting Mrs. Polwheedle on no account to divulge it.
The lady at once promised compliance, but so readily and lightly that Yorke felt sure the promise would not be kept, and was filled with dismay at this new complication; still more when he heard that Mrs. Polwheedle was expecting to meet some of the old residency garrison that very day. She was to dine with Mrs. Peart, whose husband had been killed in the defence. "She has just taken a house at Notting Hill, you know, for herself and Kitty."
"Kitty?"
"Yes; didn't you know that Kitty Spragge had come home? Kitty Peart that was. Yes, she has brought home all the children; they landed a fortnight ago — a bad time to arrive; but they got an empty steamer, which is a good thing when you have such a lot of children. Fancy that chit of a girl, as she used to be at the residency, the mother of five children, and the eldest not six! No, no," continued the lady, wagging her head knowingly, in reply to a question, "young Spragge hasn't come himself, and he isn't likely to, either, with such a family to provide for. He has had enough to do to send them, let alone coming himself: he had to borrow five thousand rupees from the Agra bank for their passage-money and outfit; and when will he be able to pay that off, do you suppose? with him on four hundred and ninety-six rupees a month, and no chance of any promotion? You would hardly know Kitty again, she has grown so stout. Yes, I am going to take an early dinner with them, and then we are going with the eldest boy to the circus. I like to see good horsemanship myself; it reminds one so of one's young days. But I can't get that poor fellow out of my head."
Then Yorke, rising to go, again urged her to secrecy. As long as they kept the matter to themselves, he pointed out, they perhaps might be able to help the unfortunate persons concerned in their difficulty. And he would come back soon and consult her as to what was best to be done. But if once the matter went be-
