I am, yours faithfully,

HENRY CRICHTON-MORLEY.



MY SEVENTH STAGE



Yet on the dull silence breaking
With a lightning flash, a word,
Bearing endless desolation
On its blighting wings, I heard;
Earth can forge no keener weapon,
Dealing surer death and pain,
And the cruel echo answered
Through long years again.
A. A. PROCTER


Curiously enough, I must actually have started for Russia on the
same day that Sigismund Zaluski was summoned by his uncle at St.
Petersburg to return on a matter of urgent business. I learnt
afterwards that the telegram arrived at Muddleton on the afternoon
of one of those sunny September days and found Zaluski as usual at
the Morleys. He was very much annoyed at being called away just
then, and before he had received any reply from Gertrude's uncle as
to the engagement. However, after a little ebullition of anger, he