"Who is this lady?" Major Waring asked, with lifted eyebrows.
"Mrs. Lovell."
At the name, Major Waring sat stricken.
"Lovell!" he repeated, under his breath. "Lovell! Was she ever in
India?"
"I don't know, indeed."
"Is she a widow?"
"Ay; that I've heard."
"Describe her."
Robert entered upon the task with a dozen headlong exclamations, and very justly concluded by saying that he could give no idea of her; but his friend apparently had gleaned sufficient.
Major Waring's face was touched by a strange pallor, and his smile had vanished. He ran his fingers through his hair, clutching it in a knot, as he sat eyeing the red chasm in the fire, where the light of old days and wild memories hangs as in a crumbling world.