What had become of him?
At last she found him one morning sitting by a table in the courtyard of the Grand Hotel, patiently awaiting her descent.

By mere chance she was un-Callendered.
"Why, what-- ?" The intended reproval died on her lips as she saw his face.

His cheeks were hollow and white, his eyes sunken The man was ill.

His hand burned through her glove.

Feelings warm and new gushed forth.
"Oh, my _dear_ friend, what is the matter ?" "I must go back to England.