"Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. " "You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically, "but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to assist him. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. . Let—it—fall. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace.
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