enfeebled perception that it took him some moments to collect his thoughts.
"It's a lady, sir," said the waiter, by way of assisting him.
"Is she young or old?" asked Mason.
"Well, sir, she's a little of both."
"I can't ask a lady to come up here," groaned the invalid.
"Upon my word, sir, you look beautiful," said the waiter. "They like a sick man. And I see she's of your own name," continued Michael, in whom constant service had bred great frankness of speech; "the more shame to her for not coming before."
Colonel Mason concluded that, as the visit had been of Mrs. Mason's own seeking, he would receive her without more ado. "If she doesn't mind it, I'm sure I needn't," said the poor fellow, who hadn't the strength to be over-punctilious. So in a very few moments his visitor was ushered up to his bedside. He saw before him a handsome, middle-aged blonde woman, stout of figure, and dressed in the height of the fashion, who displayed no other embarrassment than such as was easily explained by the loss of breath consequent on the ascent of six flights of stairs.
"Do you remember me?" she asked, taking the young man's hand.
