The next few months passed away, as many years can pass away, without definite events, and yet, if suddenly disturbed, it would be seen that such months or years had a character unlike others.

The three months which had passed had brought them to the beginning of March.

The climate had kept its promise, and the change of season from winter to spring had made very little difference, so that Helen, who was sitting in the drawing-room with a pen in her hand, could keep the windows open though a great fire of logs burnt on one side of her.

Below, the sea was still blue and the roofs still brown and white, though the day was fading rapidly.

It was dusk in the room, which, large and empty at all times, now appeared larger and emptier than usual.