The musical monotony of his purring falls soothingly on her ladyship's ear.

She stops in the middle of a leading article and looks with a careworn face at the happy cat.

"Upon my honor," cries Lady Janet, thinking, in her inveterately ironical manner, of the cares that trouble her, "all things considered, Tom, I wish I was You!" The cat starts--not at his mistress's complimentary apostrophe, but at a knock at the door, which follows close upon it.

Lady Janet says, carelessly enough, "Come in;" looks round listlessly to see who it is; and starts, like the cat, when the door opens and discloses--Julian Gray! "You--or your ghost ?" she exclaims.
She has noticed already that Julian is paler than usual, and that there is something in his manner at once uneasy and subdued--highly uncharacteristic of him at other times.

He takes a seat by her side, and kisses her hand.