For twenty-two years Francis Heathcote has lived in a kind of waking sleep, as the result of an accident which deprived him of present consciousness but left him with vivid memories of the past. Then the sight of Philippa Harford, who resembles closely the Philippa Harford whom he loved in his youth, wakens him. Bu the awakening is only partial, for he does not realize the long lapse of years and believes that this young Philippa is the other Philippa who has been long since dead. Philippa herself, first out of pity for the man, later because she loves him, is willing to play the part. Then, as is inevitable, there comes the shock of a full awakening, and Mrs. Barclay is sufficiently logical to realize that the expected, conventional ending is not possible.
g. "I thought ladies always wanted tea!"
"Perhaps ours won't suit you," said Marion as they entered the hall. "Don't you like yours made in a samovar and flavoured with lemon?"
"Not a bit of it," rejoined Philippa. "Nice English tea with plenty of cream, please."
"I can promise you that. Just sit down here. Now, Bill, give her a cushion and hand her the scones. They are freshly made and hot. Try some honey with them, real heather honey from Bessmoor. Don't ask her any questions. Let her have her tea in peace, and then you can ask as many as you like."
"The atmosphere Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers Seem full of welcomes."--LONGFELLOW.
"Where is Dick?" asked Philippa presently. "I do so want to see him."
"Dickie is away, I am sorry to say," answered his mother mournfully. "We have all been staying with my sister in Yorkshire. Bill and I came home yesterday, but she persuaded