shook her thick walking-stick in Miss Leyton’s face as she passed by her, and called out loud enough for everyone to hear: “And when is the handsome Captain coming to join you, Miss Leyton, eh? Take care he ain’t running after some other gal! ‘When pensive I thought on my L.O.V.E.’ Ha! ha! ha!”

Elinor flushed a delicate pink but did not turn her head, nor take any notice of her tormentor. She detested the Baroness with a perfectly bitter hatred, and her proud cold nature revolted from her coarseness and familiarity.

“Tied to your brat again!” cried the Baroness, as she passed Margaret Pullen who was moving the perambulator gently to and fro by the handle, so as to keep her infant asleep; “why didn’t you put it in the tub as soon as it was born? It would ’ave saved you a heap of trouble! I often wish I had done so by that devil Bobby! ’Ere, where are you, Bobby?”

“I’m close behind you, Mamma!” replied the simple-looking youth.

“Well! don’t you get running away from your father and me, and winking at the gals! There’s time enough for that, ain’t there, Gustave?” she concluded, addressing the Baron.

“Come along, Robert, and mind what your mother tells you!” said the Herr Baron with his guttural German accent, as the extraordinary trio pursued their way down the Digue, the Baroness making audible remarks on everybody she met, as they went.

Margaret Pullen sat where they had left her, moving about the perambulator, whilst her eyes, like Elinor’s, were fixed upon the tranquil water. The August sun had now quite disappeared, and the indescribably faint and unpleasant odour, which is associated with the dunes of Heyst, had begun to make itself apparent. A still languor had crept over everything, and there were indications of a thunderstorm in the air. She was thinking of her husband, Colonel Arthur Pullen, the elder brother of Miss Leyton’s *fiancé*, who was toiling out in India for baby and herself. It had been a terrible blow to Margaret, to let him go out alone after only one year of happy wedded life, but the expected advent of her little daughter at the time, had prohibited her undertaking so long a journey and she had been compelled to remain behind. And now baby was six months old, and Colonel Pullen hoped to be home by Christmas, so had advised her to wait for his return. But her thoughts were sad sometimes, notwithstanding.

Events happen so unexpectedly in this world--who could say for certain that she and her 

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