quent proceedings, Dr. Green at once pronounced life to be extinct.'

This gentleman was an eminent physician living hard by in Piccadilly, and professionally known to Mr. Pennicuick.

'How did this sad business come about?' inquired he.

It was from intense excitement I believe, doctor. It is Mrs. Conway, wife of the poor fellow who was killed when travelling with me in China, and she came here insisting upon having the whole particulars. I had avoided her for that very reason-for they were of a nature to shock any woman; but she compelled me to be explicit, and this, alas! is the result.'

'I am not surprised at it,' answered the doctor gravely. 'There was a strong predisposition to apoplexy, no doubt, and any sudden shock, especially if she was excited, must have been dangerous to her.'

'She was intensely excited,' reiterated Pennicuick; Hatton there remarked it even before she entered the room. When I spoke of what had happened to her husband, she cried out, speaking of the Chinese who had put him so barbarously to death, "Murderers! murderers!" and then fell down upon the floor just as you found her.'

'I heard the lady cry out them very words,' put in Hatton respectfully.

'The whole affair is clear as daylight,' observed Dr. Green; but it will be necessary to inform the coroner. I am very sorry to inconvenience you,' he added, seeing the clouds gather on Pennicuick's face, but an inquest is indispensable.'

'Do not speak of inconvenience, doctor. I will go to some hotel for the present-perhaps Hatchett's'

'There is no reason why the poor lady should not be taken

home.'

There is only a daughter left; the shock would be too terrible. No, she had better remain here. Let everything be done, Hatton, that should be done.'

'And about Miss Conway, sir? should not Mr. Raymond be communicated with?'

'Why?' The question was short and sharp; but immediately his voice altered to a gentler tone. Yes, you are right; I will go to him myself, and he will arrange matters, at least if I can be spared,' continued he, looking inquiringly at the doctor.

'You can be of no sort of use here,' answered that gentleman. 'If you take my advice, you will at once remove to Hatchett's. Town is very full, and the sooner you secure rooms and especially the sooner you leave these rooms-the better.'

Ralph Pennicuick took the hint and his hat, and left at once. 'Your master is not looking well,' said the doctor to the valet. He is far from well, sir; he has been very nervous and out of sorts ever since he came home from China. Captain Conway's death has shaken him a great deal, I think.'

"Ah! And this is not a nice sort of thing to happen to a man in his state. You must stay here, and I will send some people to look after matters.'

Mr. Hatton did not care to stay by himself where he was, but followed the doctor out, and remained outside the door of the apartment until the 'people' alluded to arrived. The whole occurrence was distasteful to him; he had not contemplated being asked to remain with corpses when he entered upon his situation;

but, on the other hand, he felt that the bond between himself and his master had been somehow strengthened by this unpleasant event. He was conscious that he had been discreet, and that his discretion had not escaped Ralph Pennicuick's observation. Very few things that concerned that gentleman did.

CHAPTER IV.

ORPHANED.

THOUGH poor Nelly's home was left desolate on that terrible day, it was not deserted. Mrs. Wardlaw left her home and the husband from whom she had never been separated for a quarter of a century, to take up her quarters for the night with the orphaned girl.

'You have got a mother yet, my darling,' she whispered fondly in her ear, if you would only let it be so.'

But for the time Nelly was hardly sensible of her kindness. She had lost father, mother, and all that belonged to her, and seemed to herself utterly alone in the world. If Raymond had been her accepted lover, and could have come down in person to give his loving sympathy, it would just then have hardly availed her, though the consciousness that he was hers would without doubt have been an unspeakable comfort; but, as it was, it was forbidden her even to think of him. There was no green spot in all the desert of Life that lay before her on which to fix her eyes. She was unhappy before, and full of apprehension for the future, but far worse had befallen her than she had dreamed of. 'I was not in safety, neither was I quiet, yet trouble came,' were the words of Scripture that seemed to her to have the most proper

application to herself; its promises and recommendations to be of good cheer, were not for her. Even the excellent woman who had come to sustain her in her tribulation failed in her errand of mercy. There was no faculty of consolation in her; for sympathy -except so far as pity and kindliness went-was wanting. She had never so much as seen Captain Conway, and only knew of him as a man who had been estranged from his family, partly by his own act; it was impossible for her to understand the bond that, stretching across the globe, had united father and daughter of late years so nearly. Her knowledge of Mrs. Conway had been more personal, but it had only made her acquainted with the poor woman's faults and follies; and Nelly could not but be aware of this. She had herself been acquainted with them, but also with the love and tenderness that lay at the root of her mother's character, and which were hidden from Mrs. Wardlaw as from the rest of the world, and she resented the fact that this kind friend had been, although by necessity, thus ignorant of her mother's virtues. How could she understand the greatness of her sorrow, who did not understand the greatness of her loss? Nelly was very sensible, however, of her good intentions, nor did her common sense so far desert her in her wretchedness as to cause her to fail to recognise the rarity as well as the value of such a friendship. Words of gratitude, steeped in tears, were not wanting to her, and she did also what she could in the shape of acknowledgment by giving way to her friend's wishes in various material particulars. If she had had her own way, she would have gone up to town at once, and kept companionship with all that remained of her poor mother till it was committed to the grave; but she suffered herself to be overruled in this particular.