mourner: but it had to be. On his return home from the cemetery, Frank's way led him through West Street, and he called in just to see Rosaline, who had been too disturbed in health, too depressed in spirits, to attend herself. Not one minute had he been there when Mr. Blase Pellet also came in. On the third day from that, Rosaline was to sail for New Zealand.

"And I say that it is a very cruel thing of her to sail at all," struck in Blase, when Frank chanced to make some remark about the voyage. "As my wife, she would——"

"Blase, you know the bargain," quietly interrupted Rosaline, turning her sad eyes upon him. "Not a word of that kind must ever be spoken by you to me again. I will not hear it, or bear it."

"I'm not going to speak of it; it's of no use speaking," grumbled Blase. "But a fellow who feels his life is blighted can't be wholly silent. And you might have been so happy at Trennach! You liked the place once."