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FRANCES ELEANOR TROLLOPE.
27

"Lady Francis Onslow. She was a daughter of Colonel Fortescue Ffrench, of Crimean celebrity, and she married Frank Onslow when she was only seventeen, and three years afterward they were separated."

"Is that the woman?"

"That is the woman."

"She looks such a child!"

"I told you she was married when she was only seventeen."

"But he—Lord Francis—he is alive?"

"Very much so! At least he looked alive enough when I saw him about half an hour ago."

"He is here?"

"Yes. Look here, Jacynth; just let us take a turn somewhere; here, this is a quiet path, and——"

"No; not there!" said Jacynth, drawing back roughly, as Lord Castleton laid his hand on his arm. It was the pathway where he had just been speaking with Fenella. "I don't know why I should listen to you at all. What does it matter? Nothing you can say will do any good."

Nevertheless, he did listen. What man would not have listened? That he should believe it when it was told was another matter. Jacynth was a clever man, a man of brilliant talents and rising reputation in his profession. He had also certain special gifts which were not so generally