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 too late. We were just in time to hear H. O. say:

"I'm sorry if she frightened you. But we've been looking for you. Are you Albert's uncle's long-lost grandmother?"

"No," said our lady, unhesitatingly.

It seemed vain to add seven more agitated actors to the scene now going on. We stood still. The man was standing up. He was a clergyman, and I found out afterwards he was the nicest we ever knew, except our own Mr. Bristow at Lewisham, who is now a canon, or a dean, or something grand that no one ever sees. At present I did not like him. He said: "No, this lady is nobody's grandmother. May I ask in return how long it is since you escaped from the lunatic asylum, my poor child, and where your keeper is?"

H. O. took no notice of this at all, except to say: "I think you are very rude, and not at all funny, if you think you are."

The lady said: "My dear, I remember you now perfectly. How are all the others, and are you pilgrims again to-day?"

H. O. does not always answer questions. He turned to the man and said:

"Are you going to marry the lady?"

"Margaret," said the clergyman, "I never thought it would come to this: he asks me my intentions!"

"If you are," said H. O., "it's all right; because if you do, Albert's uncle can't—at least, not till you're dead. And we don't want him to."