The elegant Miss Pursill had gone to Brighton for change of air, but the pretty maid, who had been left behind to look after the house and the decayed old lady, assured him that there had been nobody to see Mrs.Pursill since his last visit.

Miss Pursill went away the very next day after he was down, and there had been no callers or visitors.
She imparted this information at first with a sparkle of coquetry in her eye, then with a glance of compassion as she noticed how much the debonair visitor had changed for the worse since she saw him last.

She looked at him solicitously, as though she would have liked to remove with womanly hands the marks of neglect from his apparel.

From the door she watched him making his way back to the station.

She stood there in the shade of the evening, following him with her eyes until the bend of the road hid him from view..