Milly,' he said. 'What would any one care if I were to drop over the
side of the quay some dark night, on my way from the office to my
lodgings, after a hard day's work, and never be seen alive again?'

'How wicked it is of you to talk like that, Julian! There are plenty
of people who would care--papa, to begin with.'

'Well, I suppose my uncle William would be rather sorry. He would
lose a good man of business, and he would scarcely like going back
to the counting-house, and giving himself up to all the dry details
of commerce once more.'

The travellers arrived soon after this. Mr. Darrell greeted his
daughter with much tenderness; but I noticed a kind of languor in
Mrs. Darrell's embrace, very different from her reception of Milly
at that first meeting which I had witnessed more than a year before.
It seemed to me that her power over her husband was now supreme, and
that she did not trouble herself to keep up any pretence of
affection for his only child.

She was dressed to perfection; and that subdued charm which was
scarcely beauty, and yet stood in place of it, attracted me to-day
as it had done when we first met. She was a woman who, I could
imagine, might be more admired than many handsomer women. There was
a distinction, an originality about the pale delicate face, dark
arched brows, and gray eyes--eyes which were at times very brilliant.

She looked round her without the faintest show of interest or
admiration as she loitered with her husband on the terrace, while
innumerable travelling-bags, shawls, books, newspapers, and packages