in the growing dusk.

"I'm not sorry to see the rain; we shall have it warmer now," remarked
Mr. Hamlyn, who had drawn a chair to the fire. "In fact, it's much
warmer already than it was this morning."

"Philip, step here a minute."

His wife's tone had dropped to a half-whisper, sounding rather
mysterious, and he went at once.

"Just look, Philip--opposite. Do you see a woman standing there?"

"A woman--where?" cried he, looking of course in every direction but the
right one.

"Just facing us. She has her back against the railings."

"Oh, ay, I see now; a lady in a cloak. She must be waiting for someone."

"Why do you call her a lady?"

"She looks like one--as far as I can see in the gloom. Does she not? Her
hair does, any way."

"She has been there I cannot tell you how long, Philip; half-an-hour,
I'm sure; and it seems to me that she is _watching_ this house. A lady
would hardly do that."

"This house? Oh, then, Eliza, perhaps she's watching for one of the