Quatermain, my Lady," the footman closed the door and she saw me.

Moving quickly towards me with both her hands outstretched, she
exclaimed in that honey-soft voice of hers,

"Oh! my dear friend----" stopped and added, "Why, you haven't changed
a bit."

"Fossils wear well," I replied, "but that is just what I was thinking
of you."

"Then it is very rude of you to call me a fossil when I am only
approaching that stage. Oh! I am glad to see you. I /am/ glad!" and
she gave me both the outstretched hands.

Upon my word I felt inclined to kiss her and have wondered ever since
if she would have been very angry. I am not certain that she did not
divine the inclination. At any rate after a little pause she dropped
my hands and laughed. Then she said,

"I must tell you at once. A most terrible catastrophe has
happened----"

Instantly it occurred to me that she had forgotten having informed me
by letter of all the details of her husband's death. Such things
chance to people who have once lost their memory. So I tried to look
as sympathetic as I felt, sighed and waited.

"It's not so bad as all that," she said with a little shake of her
head, reading my thought as she always had the power to do from the