As she entered the courtyard of Brown's Buildings, Celia bought an

evening paper. If she had mistaken the significance of the old

gentleman's message and the man who haunted her thoughts had been

arrested, the case might be reported. She scanned the police news

anxiously; but there was no report, and she was laying the paper down

when her eye caught a familiar name in a paragraph. She read the few

lines in a kind of stupor, with a sense of unreality; and when she had

finished reading she stood with the paper gripped in her hand, and

staring stupidly before her.

The paragraph ran thus:-"We regret to announce the death of Mr. William Bishop, the

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well-known antiquarian, which occurred suddenly at his country

residence early this morning."

Slowly through her stupor broke the realization that she had been thrust

back into the ranks of the unemployed, that only a few shillings stood

between her and utter destitution.




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