mother puts it. We shall see her about the end of November—the Hathaways are so indulgent. They kindly extend their tour.'
'For her sake? How sweet of them!' my sister-in-law exclaimed.
I can see our friend's plain, mild old face take on a deeper mildness, even though a higher colour, in the light of the open door. 'Yes, it's for Jane they prolong it. And do you know what they write?' She gave us time, but it was too great a responsibility to guess. 'Why, that it has brought her out.'
'Oh, I knew it would!' my companion sympathetically sighed.
Maria put it more strongly still. 'They say we wouldn't know her.'
This sounded a little awful, but it was, after all, what I had expected.
III
My correspondent in Brookbridge came to me that Christmas, with my niece, to spend a week; and the arrangement had of course been prefaced by an exchange of letters, the first of which from my sister-in-law scarce took space for acceptance of my invitation before going on to say: The Hathaways are back—but without Miss Jane!' She presented in a few words the situation thus created at Brookbridge, but was not yet, I gathered, fully in possession of the other one—the situation created in 'Europe' by the presence there of that lady. The two together, at any rate, demanded, I quickly felt, all my attention, and perhaps my impatience to receive my relative was a little sharpened by my desire for the whole story. I had it at last, by the Christmas fire, and I may say without reserve that it gave me all I could have hoped for. I listened eagerly, after which I produced the comment: 'Then she simply refused———'
'To budge from Florence? Simply. She had it out there
