Gibson never saw Phœbe Richardson again. But a year later, as he turned suddenly on to the esplanade of a strange watering-place, he encountered the bath-chair, drawn by Effie and another lady. He made way, lifting his cap mechanically to its occupant.
The General looked at him. The courteous old hand checked itself in the salute. The affable smile died grimly.
Effie turned away her head. The other lady (it must have been "Mary") raised her eyes in somber curiosity.
Phœbe was not with them. Gibson supposed that she was away somewhere, recovering, in her turn.