This Salutation; or at least believe, On the 17th of June 1891 she wrote to Mrs. Gardiner about the recent death of that remarkable man, Bishop French,鈥攏o longer holding the position of a Bishop, but working as a simple Missionary. 鈥淲hy do you spoil a bit of sympathetic comprehension by that last remark?鈥?he asked. It was not till long after the death of her husband and her occupation of Farrington Court, that the old theory as to the existence of a grandson was revived by her. Why or wherefore no one could understand. Had she come upon any traces of the long-lost son? Or was it merely that her mind, in its increasing weakness, worked back into old grooves? Be the cause what it might, Lady Farrington seemed at times strangely positive that she should find the missing dear one, or his representative, after all. She often hinted, darkly and mysteriously, that there was a great surprise in store for Sir Rupert. Something he little expected would assuredly come to pass when matters were properly ripe. There was no hurry. It was better to make all sure before the mine was sprung. No link in the chain must be wanting. But all would be ready ere long. Then let Sir Rupert look to himself. 鈥淎u quatri猫me au coin, 脿 gauche.鈥? 东京热一本道色综合网 ???When Shepherds us'd to sing. 鈥楶resently the dear old Missionary, Mr. Rudolph, appeared. The 鈥減ardah鈥漑27] lady, on seeing a man, hid behind an arm-chair. But when I told her that it was 鈥淩udolph Sahib,鈥?the old lady said that he was her father, and that she would make her salaam to him. I hear that the Begum is almost a Christian, and she can read. Wrapped in her chaddah, she walked with me to church, and stayed through the service. I was close behind her. When it was over, I managed to say a little sentence to her in rather better Hindustani, 鈥淭he Lord Jesus Christ is here; He gives blessing.鈥?The Begum gave a sound of assent.鈥?  One morning, as he was returning from a house at the West End where he had bought some clothes from one of the servants, he was struck by a small crowd which had gathered round a space that had been railed off on the grass near one of the paths in the Green Park. They met perforce more often than during his guesthood, and, their common interests being multiplied, their relations became more familiar. They had reached now the period of the year鈥檚 stress, that of the great foie gras making when fatted geese were slain and the masses of swollen liver were extracted and the huge baskets of black warty truffles were brought in from the beech forests where they had been hunted for by pigs and dogs. Martin, like every one else in the household, devoted all his spare moments to helping in the steaming kitchen supervised by a special chef, and in the long, clean-smelling work-room where rows of white-aproned girls prepared and packed the delectable compound. Here Bigourdin presided in brow-knit majesty and F茅lise bustled a smiling second in command.