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The swellings appeared under her arms and a general panic spread through the Palazzo. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. It is only the women matter. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country. That was the true marvel of it. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. " "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. But, it can't be helped. But how far could he fly on a few hundred? True, he might find a job somewhere; but every footstep from behind…! "Who is she? Where does she come from?" "You mean Miss Enschede?" "Yes.

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