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 it was the pain. She was so ill that they gave her morphia. She's never been able to resist it since.

She seems all right, said the Countess.

O, she is all right, quite all right, dear—Lou was flustered—but a little queer. . . her dress, and all that, but quite all right. Quite. Lou patted her sister on the shoulder.

At six o'clock a lap-supper was served. 'The ladies sat in straight rows on the chairs ranged round the walls, while Anna and Mary, the cook, passed circular tin trays, one for each guest. An embroidered doily covered the centre of each tray, on which reposed a Haviland china plate piled with shrimps submerged in mayonnaise, a devilled ham sandwich, a fork, a napkin, and a glass of water. There was a good deal of sprightly conversation while the guests were partaking of this repast, particularly in the corner where Miss Darrell, Mrs. Sinclair, and Miss Jelliffe were sitting.

Seems to me, muttered Miss Darrell, under her breath, that she has surprisingly little to say.

One would think, said Mrs. Sinclair, that she had lived in Maple Valley all her life. She talked of nothing else.

It would seem, Miss Jelliffe put in, that a lady who had spent so many years abroad—she must be fifty, at least—would have more to say about the monuments. Do you remember when Mrs. Townsend returned how interesting she was about the Louvre and Trafalgar Square? She gave that