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dent, at present sought guidance and advice from

one, yet with all her waywardness she was a general favorite wherever she went. As long as they left him in peace, Mr. Graham, the Rector, let the girls do pretty much as they liked.

Marjory soon became a frequent visitor at Rosebud Cottage. In vain did the prudent Margaret try to check the growing intimacy, saying they knew nothing whatever of the lady's antecedents, and rumour even suggested that she was living under an assumed name. How the friendship first began Marjory hardly knew, but she did know that she had found interest in her life.

a

new

Mrs. Fortescue

Fortescue was very seriously ill, even Marjory's inexperienced eyes could

life a

see that, and sometimes she seemed so sad and depressed that Marjory longed to make the short remainder of her little brighter. The curiosity which had been excited in the village by her arrival had died a natural death because she was very reserved and never spoke to anyone about her past life. Sometimes Marjory would try to find out a little, but she soon gave up trying, as it always had the effect of spoiling the rest of her visit for that day, making her hostess more silent and reserved than usual. So Marjory could only imagine stories about her, until she almost believed them to be true.

Though Mrs. Fortescue never talked about herself, she would often talk to Marjory of past experiences connected with other people. She had travelled a great deal and every subject seemed to bring up some reminiscence.

She had evidently passed much of her time in the “Bohemian World," a phase of life of which Marjory was,

in the narrow limits of her country village life, utterly ignorant, and which the virtuous Margaret would have regarded with holy horror.

CHAPTER II.

The Faded Lilies.

ABOUT two months after Mrs. Fortescue's advent in Brambleton, Marjory came to see her, bringing her a lovely bunch of lilies of the valley, whose fragrance filled the little room.

Mrs. Fortescue was delighted. “ There is no flower I love so much," she said. " Yet what a strange medley of memories they arouse : I hardly know whether pleasure or pain most prevails.”

She buried

her face in the cool

fragrant flowers and seemed to be lost in thought. At last she looked up and said, “I suppose nothing has so potent an effect in rousing memories and recalling past days, as scents. What a distinctive smell every house seems

to possess. Often in going into a quite strange house, some subtle odour will bring vividly before one

event which one believed to have been buried in oblivion.”

a scene or

Marjory busied herself putting the flowers in water, and then sat down near the couch on which Mrs. Fortescue was resting. It was some minutes before either spoke, but at last Mrs. Fortescue broke the silence, saying: “A long way from here there is a certain big German town, where the military band plays daily at the

hour in the 'Feldherrnhalle.' Many of the townspeople, and all visitors, flock there to listen to the music and

same

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